Don't Forget Me
by Ely-Baby
Summary: [Sequel to 'I Will Remember You'.] After what they have gone through, Harry and Hermione decide to go and visit the Graveyard on the Isle of Drear. Little do they know that that place is cursed. R
1. Decisions

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. are property of the great J.K. Rowling, I just borrow them for fun, but I don't earn anything… I swear.

A/N: Oh, well, I really hope that you all like this story. It's the first time that I write a sequel, so I hope I won't disappoint you. This story is a tad more adventurous than "I Will Remember You", and sadder too. Well, I didn't invent the Isle of Drear or the Quintapeds, for who is wondering, you can find all that in "Fantastic Beast and Where To Find Them". I hope that the names are right, because I only have the Italian version of that book. Well… enjoy the chapter!

To Danii: Oh, thanks so much for all your nice comments and for your help. You are such a wonderful beta-reader.

**Decisions**

Harry opened his eyes as the sun hit his face. He looked around in the seventh year Gryffindor dorm, and saw that it was empty. He stretched an arm to the bed that he had moved next to his. "Hermione?" he called sleepily.

No one answered. He searched for his glasses on the bedside table, put them on and raised his head to have a better look around.

"Hermione?" he called. Her bed was already made.

Still, no answer. He pulled off the sheets and put his bare feet on the floor. He stretched his arms above his head, and walked lazily towards the bathroom. He took a quick shower and changed from his pyjamas into a pair of jeans and a shirt. He climbed down the stairs that led to the common room.

"Hermione?" he called for the third time.

But, again, nobody answered.

Harry sighed heavily and headed for the portrait hole.

"Good morning," the Fat Lady greeted him.

"Good morning," he answered politely. "Have you seen Hermione?"

The Fat Lady smiled. "Actually, I did. She exited the common room this morning. She is a morning person."

Harry nodded. "Didn't she tell you where she was going?" he asked hopefully.

The Fat Lady shook her head. "No, why should she do something like that?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "And you didn't ask her?"

She glared at him from her portrait. "What do you think? That I don't have anything better to do than mind everybody's business?" she snapped.

Harry was going to say yes, but he thought he should keep his mouth shut. After all, the Fat Lady was his only access to the dorms. "No, of course you don't," he said, trying to sound sincere.

The Fat Lady smiled graciously. "If I were you, I would try the grounds."

"The grounds?"

"She was wearing her trainers and a coat," said the Fat Lady.

"Thank you," said Harry, hurrying down the stairs that led to the first floor. He passed by the door of the Great Hall and glanced in. Filch was having his breakfast.

"Potter," he called when he saw Harry. "Get over here."

Harry mentally cursed himself for having left his father's Cloak at the Leaky Cauldron.

"What?" he asked warily as he entered the Great Hall.

"The fact that I allow you and your friend to stay here doesn't mean that I'm willing to have too many people around," he said, swallowing a piece of toast.

Harry sighed. He said that every single morning. "Okay. Can I go now?" he asked.

"Do you know what time your friend come down those stairs?" he asked him with his yellow eyes boring into Harry.

Harry shook his head.

"At six in the morning," he said stressing the 'six'. "Does she think that she's here all alone?"

Harry sighed again. "Did she make a lot of noise?" he asked calmly.

"She woke me up," Filch snapped.

"Listen, Filch, why don't you change bedrooms?" asked Harry hopefully. He was sure Filch had already been awake when Hermione came down the stairs, as she hadn't made any sound at all. He must have waited for her to come down with his ear pressed to the door of his bedroom.

"No," he retorted. "She has to make less noise."

"I'll tell her, all right?" said Harry, starting to walk away.

"And tell her that you two are not welcome here," he shouted after him.

Harry rolled his eyes as he approached the great oak doors that led to the grounds of Hogwarts. As he exited, the cold October morning air hit his face. He shivered and shrugged his shoulders, thinking he should have worn something warmer.

He glanced at the grounds around the castle, and finally spotted Hermione. She sat near Hagrid's hut, with a book opened in her lap. Harry would have bet his wand that the book was 'Hogwarts: A History'.

He walked towards her. She was so focused on her reading that she didn't even notice he was there.

"Filch complained that you made lots of noise this morning," he said.

Hermione looked up and smiled. "Did you believe him?" she asked.

"Do you think I'm that stupid?" he replied, sitting down next to her. "What are you reading?"

"'Hogwarts: A History'," she answered, showing him the cover of the huge book she was holding.

"How can you hold it? I'm sure it's heavier than you," he said, taking the tome into his hands.

Hermione smiled. "The weight of the culture," she answered, stretching an arm towards him to take it back. Harry moved it away.

"Harry," said Hermione, half-smiling. "Give it back."

"Take it," he said, moving it a little higher, so that Hermione couldn't reach it. She stretched out her arm again, passing in front of Harry and brushing his cheek with her hair. When she was almost going to reach the book, Harry moved it away a little further and at the same time he slid his hand behind her back and pressed on her waist. Hermione shrieked and sat on Harry's lap.

"That's not fair," she said, laughing.

"It is," said Harry, starting to tickle her.

"No, Harry please, stop it," she said, pushing him away playfully.

"What, Miss. Granger? Please don't stop? Of course I won't!" said Harry, tickling her even more.

"No, Harry, please stop," she repeated, laughing hard.

Harry stopped and looked at her.

"You are evil," she joked, blocking his hands. Harry smiled and moved his arms, trying to free himself from Hermione's grasp.

"Let me go, Hermione," he said, smiling.

"What do you want to do?" she asked him, trying not to burst into laughter.

"You'll see," he said softly.

Hermione let his arms go and Harry moved his right hand towards her face and seized her chin gently. He bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. He felt that she was smiling, and then she kissed him back. After what seemed ages, he let her go.

"So, what were you saying about Filch?" she asked him, leaning her head next to his and hugging him.

"He said that you made a lot of noise this morning, and he said we're not welcome here," said Harry, brushing Hermione's curls away from his face.

"Nice of him," said Hermione sarcastically.

"As always," answered Harry, shrugging.

"I've been thinking, Harry," she said seriously.

"About what?" he asked.

"Remember last month? The day after we came back from the battleground?"

"The day after you gained your memory."

Hermione nodded. "Remember when we talked near the lake?"

Harry nodded. He remembered pretty well; that day marked the beginning of his new life with Hermione.

"You said that we would leave, that we wouldn't stay here forever."

"I know."

"Then, why are we still here?" she asked, looking into the eyes. "Why didn't we leave?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

"Harry, I want to leave," she said simply.

Harry smiled. "Where do you want to go?"

"You said that they buried all the people that died in the Last Battle in the Isle of Drear. I want to go there," she said quietly.

"The Isle of Drear?" asked Harry, confused. "Why?"

"I want to see where and how they buried all the brave people that fought against Voldemort. Don't you feel the urge to pay homage to them?" she asked him, getting off his lap.

Harry looked at her. "I don't know. I don't even know if it's possible to get there."

Hermione looked at him intently. "Harry. Ron, Ginny and all our friends are there. Don't you want to go there and see if they received a proper burial?"

"I'm sure they did," said Harry darkly, getting up and brushing some grass off his jeans.

Hermione looked at him intently. "Why don't you want to leave?" she asked him.

He started to walk back to the castle. "Tell me that you want to visit your parents, tell me that you want to go to Diagon Alley, even tell me that you want to go to the Ministry of Magic, and I'll follow you. But I don't want to waste my time on visiting a graveyard," he said harshly.

"What are you afraid of?" she questioned him.

"Nothing," he said, stopping and turning to face her.

"Then why don't you want to go?"

"They are dead, Hermione. What use will there be in going there?"

"Civilized people usually visit their dead."

"I won't be civilized, then," said Harry, turning again and walking faster towards Hogwarts.

"You are talking nonsense," she snapped as they reached the oak door.

"I don't want to come, is that so difficult for you to understand?" he asked her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"I won't come," he snapped again, starting to climb up the stairs.

"Ron is buried there, don't you want to-"

"Is it just for that you want to go there?" he cried, stopping abruptly and turning to face her. "Just because you want to see Ron?"

Hermione looked at him. "You're not jealous, are you? Because you know that Ron is dead, right?"

Harry lowered his eyes. "I know," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "It's okay. It's just that I don't understand why you don't want to go there."

"I don't know," he said softly. "Maybe I don't want to remember the past."

Hermione took a step towards him and climbed another stair. She twined her arm around his waist and pressed closer to him. "You can't forget your past," she whispered.

"I don't want to forget the past, but I don't want to remember it either."

"Harry, I don't want to force you to do anything, but it's very important to me," she said.

Harry sighed and smiled. "Okay, if it's really important for you I'll come, but I don't want to see you crying on their graves."

Hermione smiled back at him. "I swear I won't cry."

He took her face between his hands and kissed her gently. "When do you want to leave?"

"Are you two leaving?"

Both Harry and Hermione turned their heads to face Filch, who was looking at them with hope gleaming in his eyes.

"Yes," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"What wonderful news," said Filch, clapping his hands. "When?"

"As soon as we're ready," snapped Hermione.

"If you need a hand with packing, just let me know," Filch said quickly.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "No, thanks. It won't take too much. Let's go, Harry." She took Harry's hand and guided him upstairs.

"I'll be ready in a minute," she said, heading for the girls' dorm.

"What? A minute? Are we going to leave now?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded. "There's no point in staying here. We don't do anything useful and Filch hates us."

"Wait a minute," he said, holding her back. "How are we supposed to get there? May I remind you our destination is an island?"

"We can use the flying car," said Hermione briskly.

Harry looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "How long have you planned this?" he asked.

"I didn't plan anything," she replied. "You ask, I answer."

Harry nodded. "I'll go and pack then."

Hermione smiled and headed for the girls' dorm, while Harry climbed up the stairs that led to the boys' dorm. Hermione slept every night with Harry in the boys' dormitory. Harry had moved Ron's bed next to his, so they would be comfortable, but she kept her clothes in the wardrobe in her old dormitory. It took them very little time to collect all their belongings. They just consisted of some clothes and their wands. They used the enchanted backpack that they had already utilized during their travel from the Leaky Cauldron to Hogwarts.

"We should pass by the kitchen," suggested Hermione as they met up in the common room. "We'll need some food for the trip."

"Yes, and we should say goodbye to Dumbledore's and McGonagall's portraits as well," Harry pointed out. Hermione nodded.

They went downstairs, told the password to the gargoyle statue that led to the Heads' office, and climbed up the stairs till they reached the circular room. They looked at the portraits. They were all asleep, and they seemed very peaceful. Harry cleared his throat.

Professor McGonagall muttered something in her sleep while her hat slipped slowly down her head. Professor Dumbledore turned his head and started to snore.

Harry cleared his throat again, a little bit louder.

"Excuse us, professors," said Hermione loudly.

Dumbledore muttered something, but then he finally woke up. "Yes?" he asked groggily.

"We wanted to inform you that we are leaving," said Hermione clearly.

Dumbledore looked at them for a long moment without understanding. "What?" he asked eventually. "You are leaving? To go where?"

"The Isle of Drear," answered Harry.

Dumbledore looked at them with his eyebrows raised, then he turned towards Professor McGonagall's portrait and stretched out an arm, which disappeared out of the frame of his picture and appeared in McGonagall's.

"Minerva, wake up," he said, shaking her shoulder gently. "Harry and Hermione are leaving."

Professor McGonagall jumped out of her armchair. "I'm up," she said, arranging her hat. "What were you saying?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded towards Harry and Hermione. "They are leaving, Minerva. They said that they are going to the Isle of Drear."

"The Isle of Drear?" asked Professor McGonagall, her eyes wide. "Didn't you learn anything at school with Professor Binns? No, I guess _you_ didn't Potter. Miss Granger, however, I would have expected more sense from. The Isle of Drear is infested by Quintapeds."

"Actually professor, I knew that." Hermione looked at Harry. "Both of us knew that."

"Then why do you want to commit suicide?" asked Professor McGonagall calmly.

"We don't want to commit suicide," said Harry, smiling. "The Quintapeds have been swept away with the wave of power that destroyed everything after the Last Battle."

"Oh," was all Professor McGonagall could say. "Then why do you want to go there?"

"They used that island to bury everyone that died in the Last Battle," explained Hermione.

"Like a graveyard?" asked McGonagall.

"Something like that, I guess," said Harry. "I don't know anybody that's been there, so I don't know how it will be."

Dumbledore moved his half-moon glasses up his nose. "You know," he started, "when I was in that hut after the Last Battle, I heard the Ministry employees who picked me up say they had also buried Voldemort there."

"What?" asked Harry, taken aback. "Voldemort?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I don't know why they did something like that. If I were them, I would have burned his corpse. No one knows how the evil would spread."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"I mean that Voldemort is dead, but who knows what has become of all the evilness that he had in him," said Dumbledore, sighing.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks.

"But I could always be wrong," said Dumbledore. "I hope you'll have a nice trip, though," he added before falling asleep again.

"Thanks," muttered Harry and Hermione.

"And if you find my grave, look if they wrote my name the right way," said Professor McGonagall before she, too, fell asleep.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and exited the office, paying attention to making as less noise as they could.

"What do you think he meant with 'no one knows how the evil would spread'?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"I don't know," answered Harry. "But, Voldemort is dead. Of that I'm sure, and I don't think that he will be able to harm us in any way."

Hermione nodded. "But if you don't want to come with me I can under-"

Harry placed a finger over her lips. "And you reckon that I'll send you all alone? Don't even think something like that," he said.

"Thanks," said Hermione gratefully.

Harry smiled.

They climbed down the stairs to the kitchen and took as much food as they managed to find. Then they came back to the Great Hall, where Filch was sitting on the Headmaster's chair and talking to himself.

Harry cleared his throat. "We're leaving now."

Filch looked at them and then something that looked almost like a smile spread across his face. "Wonderful," he said, "No one will wake me up again at six in the morning, no one will disturb me when I'm speaking all alone in my castle. No one-"

"Okay, we got the point," Harry interrupted. "See you soon, then," he added, seizing Hermione's arm and dragging her towards the door while Filch's wheezy voice followed them. "_Soon_? What do you mean about _soon_?"

They exited and looked around. "Where was the Flying Car the last time we saw it?" asked Harry.

"Two days ago. It was near Hagrid's hut," said Hermione, searching for it in the hut's direction. "Look! There it is," she said, pointing a finger towards the Forest.

"Let's go," said Harry. And they both started to walk down the grounds, towards the Ford Anglia, who didn't move from its place. They sat on the car and Harry started up the engine. They levitated some feet from the ground, and started to fly north, both of them with a dreadful premonition in their hearts. But they didn't give a thought to it. After all, what was a premonition? Sybill Trelawney always had terrible presentiments and they never came true, did they?


	2. Travelling to North

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. is property of J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Finally I updated this fan fiction, I'm sorry for the delay, but I've just finished my exams. Now I'm free for two entire months, so wait for some new stories and lots of updates! Well, about this chapter, my beta-reader pointed out that Harry didn't have the book "Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them" between his school books, but in the first pages of the book there are writings that let us understand that that book was Harry's, so I left the name, also because I almost copied some parts. Anyway, I hope you'll like this chapter, uh-oh! Warning, there's a cliff-hanger at the end! LOL!

To Danii: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter.

**Travelling to North**

Hermione looked intently at Harry, trying to capture his attention. It was the tenth time she'd done it. The first nine times, Harry had succeeded into ignoring her, but now, he couldn't take it anymore. He already knew what she wanted, but he asked her anyway.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he questioned, sighing.

"Nothing," she answered quickly, looking away from him.

"Come on, you can tell me," he said gently.

"Okay, I was just wondering if you could fly a little bit nearer to the ground," she asked, her voice shaking.

"If I fly nearer to the ground, there's more chance I could crash into a tree or something," he explained unhurriedly.

"I know, the fact is that I don't-"

"You don't like to fly, I get that," he said. "You know what I was thinking? That it was you the one that suggested the Flying Car for getting to the island."

"I know," she said hastily. "But I didn't have any better ideas."

"Okay. Listen, why don't you try to get some sleep?" he asked her hopefully.

"How can I sleep when I know that we are _fifty feet above the earth_?" she almost screamed.

"If you want I can cast a sleeping spell on you," he suggested.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Maybe we can talk, so I'll be distracted by something," she offered.

Harry nodded. "All right, what do you want to talk about?"

Hermione shrugged. "Anything."

They sat there for a long moment without talking, both of them trying to find a subject interesting enough. Harry's first thought was Quidditch, but he was sure that Hermione wouldn't have been willing to talk about it in any moment of her life and particularly not while they were flying. Hermione on the other hand, would have started to talk about books, but she was sure that she would end up doing a monologue.

"So," Harry said after a while. "What exactly were those Quintapeds everybody is talking about?"

Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "Did you ever listen to Professor Binns during History of Magic?" she asked him seriously, trying hard not to roll her eyes.

"Why should have I? You passed me all your notes," he said, smiling.

"And if I remember well, History of Magic was one of the exams that you failed during our O.W.L.s," she said sternly.

He would have answered that he liked her more when she didn't remember anything, but the memory subject was off-limits for them. It had become something like a silent pact between Harry and Hermione.

"What about Hagrid?" asked Hermione.

"What about him?" asked Harry, who was already beginning to get lost.

"Did you listen to him?" she asked in exasperation.

"Of course I did," he answered quickly.

"Well, Harry, we studied the Quintapeds both with Hagrid _and_ Professor Binns," she explained, sighing.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, can I change my question?" He cleared his throat. "Hermione, since you are so intelligent, can you please remind me what Quintapeds are?"

Hermione couldn't help smiling. "You are really funny, you know that, right?"

"I know," answered Harry, smiling too.

"Well, the Quintapeds were highly dangerous creatures. They were horrible: covered in thick reddish-brown hair, with five club-footed legs and a low-slung body. They had a special taste for human flesh. To protect Muggles and wizards from them, the Isle of Drear was made Unplottable," she explained, quoting 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' almost by heart.

"Unplottable?" asked Harry. "What do you mean by Unplottable?"

"Like Grimmauld Place. Muggles and unwanted people won't find it and so-"

"No, Hermione, I know what 'Unplottable' means," said Harry, interrupting her. "I meant, if it is Unplottable, how do we find it?"

"Two days ago, I was sitting outside in the school grounds, near the gate." Harry would have looked at her with his eyebrows raised, because he didn't understand why that mattered, but he preferred to keep his eyes in front of him, since he was flying a little bit lower than before. "I was reading 'Hogwarts: A History'," Hermione continued, "and I found myself totally entangled with the part of the history of the portraits. Did you know-"

"Hermione? Why does this matter?" he asked her uncomprehendingly.

"Oh, sorry," she answered. "Well, as I was saying, I was sitting outside, and it was a nice sunny day, not too cold, when I saw a couple of Muggles passing by. At first I ignored them, I was sure that they would have just seen an old ruined castle with a 'no trespassing' signal on it, but then I realized that I had never seen any Muggles so close to Hogwarts. I pricked up my ears and tried to listen to what they were saying."

"And?" asked Harry.

"And they were talking about the wonderful castle that they saw in front of them, and were complaining about the fact that no travel guide gave details about it," said Hermione, sighing.

"You mean that Hogwarts' Unplottable charm has been broken?" asked Harry, feeling the weight of all the consequences.

Hermione shook her head. "No, because Hogwarts didn't have any Unplottable charm on it."

"But you just said-"

"I said that the Muggles should see a ruin, but they can actually see something. They wouldn't notice anything if it really had been Unplottable. Hogwarts had lots of other spells that protected it."

"Had? You mean that now the charms are-"

"Broken," Hermione finished for him. "It must have been a secondary effect of the Wave of Power."

"And now Muggles can see Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

"They could," said Hermione, smiling. "But I spent quite a lot of time looking for a Muggle-Repelling Charm, and I finally found one that I could manage to do by myself. It's not very powerful, but with that, Muggles won't see Hogwarts, or the real one."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"They'll see a smaller castle with some cars parked in front, so they'll think that it's a private residence," she said matter-of-factly.

"Very clever," said Harry.

"Thanks," she said, smiling. "By the way, I told you this story to explain my theory: the Unplottable charm on the Isle of Drear has been broken like all the other charms, thanks to the Wave of Power after the Last Battle."

"I see," said Harry thoughtfully, "So we should be able to find it, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I read that it's near the Scottish coast, but you already know that, right?"

"Yeah, while I was at St. Mungo's after the Battle, I heard some Healers say that some employees of the Ministry of Magic had gathered all the objects that they found on the ground where we fought. They had also buried the corpses of the dead in the Isle of Drear, since the Quintapeds had been destroyed. I asked them where the Isle of Drear was and they told me that it was up North, near Scotland," explained Harry.

"Exactly," said Hermione.

"What does it look like?" asked Harry.

Hermione shrugged. "Like an island?" she asked, smiling.

"Wow, you can be funny, too," said Harry sarcastically while Hermione slapped his arm jokingly. "Didn't we study at school what that island looks like?"

"Harry, why would they have taught us the shape of an island that we were not supposed to go looking for?" she asked him matter-of-factly.

Harry had to admit that she had a point. "Okay, so we're going to land on every island we spot?" he asked her.

"I guess so."

"Great," he muttered.

"Do you have a better idea?" she shot back.

Harry shook his head. "Unfortunately, no."

"Well, if you want my opinion, we should start from the island nearest to the northern point of Scotland."

Harry nodded. They spent the rest of the journey talking about all the things that crossed their minds. Towards noon, they ate a couple of sandwiches and landed near Inverness to try to understand where they were. After asking directions from a shepherd, they left again.

"You know, I would like to visit this place at least once in my life," she said, looking out of the window, before the height forced her to sit down with her back against the seat.

"We can do that, when we get back from the Isle of Drear," said Harry, smiling.

"Really?"

"Why not?"

Hermione smiled too and leaned against Harry, who placed his left arm around her back, but Hermione moved it away quickly.

"Keep both of your hands on the wheel," she said hastily.

Harry sighed, but smiled.

Harry kept driving until they reached the coast. They landed on a couple of islands, but not one of them was the Isle of Drear. One was so small that there was nothing on it, not even a cottage, so they concluded it was not the island they were looking for. The other one had a large village on it, and when they asked a man what island they were on, he answered that it was the island of Hoy.

"Maybe we passed Drear without seeing it," stated Hermione.

"I hope not," said Harry, looking at the sun that was setting into the sea.

"Should we fly over the sea until we reach Scotland again?" asked Hermione, looking at the setting sun too.

"I don't know, it's late. We should find a place to sleep. We can continue the exploration tomorrow," said Harry.

"Why don't we do a last attempt? If we don't find the island, we can find a place to sleep in Scotland, okay?" she asked, looking at him pleadingly.

Harry sighed. "Okay, let's do one last attempt."

They got in the car again and took off south. This time, Hermione fought her fear of flying and kept her nose stuck on the window, trying to spot the island under them. Harry could see her body was so rigid that he was sure that if he touched her, she would have been like stone.

"Hermione, you don't have to-"

"Go down, Harry, go down!" she almost screamed, causing him to jump on the seat. "I can see something – it's an island!"

"Are you sure? How can you see it?" asked Harry, looking down. "It's damn dark down there." He started to fly over the place that Hermione indicated.

"Trust me, I saw a light," she said excitedly.

Harry looked down again and this time he saw a light too. "What was that?"

"I don't know, Harry, but it could be a signal," she said quickly.

"Okay, we'll go down and have a look," he said, starting to set the car down. They landed on the shore of the island and looked around without getting out of the car.

There was a thick forest in front of them, something that reminded them of the Forbidden Forest around Hogwarts, but that looked more frightening and anguished. Hermione kept her eyes peeled and noticed that there was something around the forest.

"Look Harry, what's that?" she asked him, pointing at the trees.

Harry tried to discern something, but it was very hard in the moonless night. "I don't know, let's try to get closer," he said, opening the car door. Hermione got out, too and they started to walk side by side towards the forest.

"Oh my God," said Harry when he finally understood what encircled the trees. "It's a-"

"A railing," Hermione finished for him. In fact, a high iron barrier was standing between them and the forest.

"Let's find a gate or something," said Harry, walking between the railing and Hermione. They walked for about fifteen minutes without seeing a passage or a door in the rail fence, but then, eventually, they spotted something that looked like a small crumbling cottage. They looked at each other and stepped towards it.

"It looks like the hut we found on the battlefield," said Harry, looking at the door.

"That one had the door and the windows all boarded up. This one looks more like a house," stated Hermione, then she knocked on the door.

Harry looked at her without saying a word, because last time she did that, Filch had opened Hogwarts' front door. They heard someone swearing and then a great noise of keys and bolts from within.

"What do you want?" asked a voice rudely from inside.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "A place for the night," answered Hermione in her most gentle tone of voice.

The door opened enough to show an old man who shone a torch into Harry and Hermione's eyes, so that they had to cover their eyes with their hands. The man studied their faces for a long moment before speaking. "I don't have a place for you, go back where you came from," he said rudely, closing the door again.

"Please, wait," said Hermione. "Can you just give us some information?"

From the other side of the door came a snort that Hermione interpreted as a 'yes'.

"Is this the Isle of Drear?"

They heard the door opening again. "How do you know that name?" asked the man.

"I asked first," Hermione pointed out.

The man glared at her. "It is," he said. "Why do you want to know?"

"We know there's a graveyard here, and all our friends are buried here. We wanted to know how to visit it," explained Harry.

They heard an unpleasant laugh coming from the old man, while he opened the door wide.

"Come in, come in," he said to them. "Visiting the graves, rubbish," they heard him mutter as they entered the hut.

"Well, my name is Hermione Granger, and this is Harry Potter," said Hermione politely. "And you are…?"

The man turned to face her. "Me?" he asked, without understanding why she wanted to know. "I'm the Caretaker."


	3. The Caretaker

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but if I did I would have made Hermione the protagonist, because I'm a feminist.

A/N: Okay, I have to admit that I don't have any more things to write in the Author's Notes, so I usually stare at the screen for ten minutes and delete five times the things that I wrote before I actually write a real Author's Note. Anyway, I really hope that you'll enjoy this chapter, from the next one there'll be a little more action. I swear. LOL!

To Danii: Thanks a lot for the corrections and for the nice comments.

**The Caretaker **

"The Caretaker?" asked Hermione. "Don't you have a name?"

The old man thought for a while. "No," he finally snapped.

Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "Caretaker of what?"

He looked at her as if she was mad. "Of the Graveyard, of course." He sat down on an old armchair covered with dust and turned up an old black and white television in a corner of the room. Then he looked at Harry and Hermione. "Sit down then," he said rudely.

"Where?" asked Harry, looking around the small room.

The Caretaker nodded towards a couple of dilapidated chairs covered with old newspapers. Hermione and Harry exchanged looks of trepidation and stepped towards the chairs. They placed the newspapers on the floor and sat down. From there, they had a better view of the hut. It was quite big, but the great number of furnishings made it look smaller. There was very little space left for moving around between all the chairs and piles of newspapers that lay on the floor. A couple of doors led to the kitchen and the lavatory. The place didn't have anything of magic. It looked more like the house of an extremely poor old man than a wizard.

Another nasty laugh dragged the attention of Harry and Hermione back to the Caretaker. He was ignoring them, looking at an old movie on the television.

Harry cleared his throat experimentally. The Caretaker didn't even look at them.

"Excuse us," said Hermione gently. "Can we have a word with you?" she asked politely.

The old man looked at her irritably. "About what?"

"About the Graveyard," answered Hermione.

The Caretaker shrugged his shoulders. "There is nothing to tell," he said rudely, returning his attention to the television screen.

Harry placed a hand on Hermione's arm. "We want to know how to get there," he said.

The Caretaker laughed harder. "Get there. And then? What do you think you'll do once you get there?"

"Visit the graves of our fallen," said Hermione seriously.

The Caretaker looked at her. "You are good looking. Why are you so keen to end your life?" he asked her.

Hermione paled. "F-finish my life?"

"How dare you?" said Harry furiously, jumping to his feet.

The Caretaker laughed again. "Don't worry, young man. I'm too old for doing such things."

Hermione seized Harry's arm and made him sit again, then turned towards him out of sight of the Caretaker and tapped her temple lightly. Harry nodded and took a deep breath, silently counting till ten. "We saw a light coming from the island. What were you doing?" he asked, trying to change the topic.

The face of the man closed. "I wasn't doing anything," he said, turning his head towards the television.

"But we saw a light," insisted Harry.

"It wasn't me," said the man.

"Is there someone else on the island?"

"Alive?" asked the man.

"What do you mean?"

"If you meant is there someone else alive, no. I'm the only one left," he answered gruffly.

"And dead?" asked Hermione, receiving a glance from Harry.

"I'm the Caretaker of the Graveyard. Of course there are dead people here," he said impatiently.

"I didn't mean that," said Hermione.

"You asked the wrong question, then," stated the man.

Hermione looked at him for a long moment. "Who sent the light?" she asked, weighing every word.

The Caretaker smiled, revealing mossy teeth. "The ghosts."

"Ghosts?" asked Harry doubtfully.

The Caretaker nodded.

"How many of them?"

"I don't know. I've never seen them. I can't," said the man.

"What do you mean by 'I can't'?" asked Harry in confusion.

"You're a Muggle," said Hermione quietly.

The Caretaker shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, I guess I heard someone like you two calling the _normal_ people like me that way," he said, causing Harry to be unpleasantly reminded of his uncle.

"Why are you here then?" asked Hermione.

"They needed someone like me, I heard them say."

"Need someone like you for what?" asked Harry.

The Caretaker laughed. "For the spirits."

"For the spirits?" Harry and Hermione were starting to understand less with every word that this man said.

"I can't see them," snapped the man.

Hermione brought a hand to her mouth, as she usually did when she suddenly understood something. "Oh, of course," she exclaimed. "They needed someone that wasn't able to see the ghosts, because they would have driven him mad with fear."

"Very clever girl," said the man, clapping his hands derisively. "They said that these spirits are different from others."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"They said that usually a spirit becomes a ghost because it is afraid of the afterlife." Both Harry and Hermione nodded, they knew that. "But these spirits are forced to stay here against their will."

"Forced?" asked Hermione. "By what?"

The Caretaker shrugged his shoulders. "They called it Voldemort," he said nonchalantly.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Hermione brought her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide.

"This cannot be," said Harry, proud he kept the quaver out of his voice. "Voldemort is dead."

"Yes, that's what they said," continued the man. "But they said also that the evil never stops, and there is a strange power that spreads from the mausoleum."

"Wait a minute," said Harry, feeling very disoriented. "Who are _they_?"

The Caretaker shrugged his shoulders again. "I don't know. People with magical powers, I suppose, because I've never seen them work in the Graveyard. I mean," he continued, looking at the confused looks on his guests' faces, "that they came here one day of May, and the day after, they had already finished and buried all the corpses."

"How?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know. They muttered a couple of nonsense sentences in a strange language, and then the Graveyard appeared out of nowhere."

"And you? How did you come to be here?"

"They brought me here. I was just a poor old retired man, and I was asked to come to this place and be the guardian. I said that as long as they gave me a television and a house, I'd do everything."

"And what are exactly your responsibilities?"

The Caretaker laughed. "Dissuade people like you from entering the Graveyard."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"Why?" asked Harry at once.

"The spirits," he answered enigmatically.

"The spirits what?" asked Harry rudely.

The man frowned at him. "The spirits kill everybody who comes so near." He raised his thumb and index finger and held them very close together. "To them."

"That's not possible," stated Hermione. "We used to go to school in a place filled with ghosts, and they never tried to attack or kill us. They couldn't even think of doing something like that. They cannot even touch anything. They're like air that's a little bit more solid than usual."

"As I've already said, these are not common ghosts," answered the man.

"How are they different from other spirits, then?" asked Harry.

"They are evil."

"Evil?" asked Harry. The man nodded. "All right, listen," Harry began, trying to keep his voice level. "If you don't tell us everything you know about this place, I swear that-" he left the sentence unfinished, both because he didn't know what he would do to this man, and because he wanted the Caretaker using his imagination.

To Harry's great pleasure, the man seemed impressed. "What do you want to know?" he asked, annoyed.

"Everything you can tell us," said Harry calmly.

The man turned his head towards the television to avoid their eyes. "The spirits in the Graveyard are evil, but they said that it's not their fault. They weren't bad people when they were alive. Not everyone, at least," he said. "But they said that there is someone buried there, someone that in his life has been one of the crueller, if not the cruellest, wizard ever. They said that his evilness still flies in this place." The man breathed deeply before continuing his story. "They said that he wants revenge for what they have done to him, and that's why he doesn't let the souls of the people buried there go. He tortures them and makes them do whatever he desires. He controls them, and only after they have killed someone will he let them realize what they did, so that the pain and the guilt torment them even more."

"How do you know these things? The people that left the Graveyard told you that?" asked Hermione.

"You are not listening. Nobody ever leaves that place."

"How do you know, then?" asked Harry.

"They told me," he said shrugging his shoulders. "They knew everything. They were aware of what they were doing, but didn't care too much. They were sure that nobody would enter the place."

"But someone did."

The man nodded. "And never left. I tried to tell them that it was mad, but they didn't even listen to me. They got what they deserved."

"You are cruel," said Hermione angrily.

The man shot her a nasty look. "If they had listened to me, they would still be alive. But no, they had to visit the graves of their fathers, of their sons, of their sisters; as if it is of some use when they are already dead."

Hermione flushed. She had almost forced Harry to come with her to this place. She was starting to change her mind about the importance of visiting the graves of their fallen friends.

"How do they kill if they cannot even touch anyone?" asked Harry, snapping Hermione out of her thoughts.

"They said that they use something like mind control or something."

"Mind control?" asked Harry. "They must be very powerful to be able to do something like that."

"They take their power from the mausoleum in the middle of the Graveyard, where they have buried that Voldemort."

"So," Hermione began, "if they want you to believe that they are real, you'll think that they're real. If they want you to touch them, you'll be able to touch them, and if they want to touch you, they'll touch you, right?"

The man nodded. "Right. They make you believe that they are still alive, and they drive you mad, till they make you commit suicide or kill the other people you brought with you."

"What?" asked Hermione, horrified.

"They make you forget your real life and the people that you love and that are still alive. They mix up reality and dreams and – are you all right, girl?"

Harry turned to look at Hermione, who was as white as a sheet. "Hermione? Are you alright?" he asked her. Hermione looked at the man with her eyes wide open.

"Forget?" she asked in a bare whisper.

"Forget," he confirmed. "They make you believe that you'll be happy with them, and that it's your destiny."

Hermione stood up quickly and without paying attention to where she was going, she ran out of the hut. "Hermione!" Harry called after her.

"Is there something wrong with her, boy?" asked the Caretaker, obviously with no comprehension of the problem. Harry didn't answer and ran after her.

"Hermione!" he called again. "Hermione, stop!" But she didn't listen to him. Instead, she kept on running while tears streamed down her cheeks. "Hermione!" he said, seizing her arm and making her stop and look at him. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, crying. "I'm really sorry, that I made you come here for – for nothing."

"For nothing?" he asked without understanding.

She nodded. "I don't want to go in there anymore."

"Hermione what's the – Oh!" he said in realization.

Hermione nodded again. "I don't want to lose my memory again," she said, crying into his chest.

Harry hugged her to him tightly. "I won't let that happen, I won't let anything bad happen to you ever again."

She nodded. "I know. And you were right. There's no use in visiting the dead. Let's go back to Hogwarts."

Harry started to caress her hair and kissed her forehead. "No," he said gently.

Hermione pushed him away to look into his eyes. "No?"

"Hermione, didn't you hear what the man said? Voldemort's evil is still there and it tortures the souls of those poor people. Don't you want to free those souls from Voldemort's power?" he said, looking deep into her eyes.

An expression appeared on her face that went beyond normal fear. "Free them?"

Harry nodded.

"What do you mean? You don't want to go inside that place," she said, looking at the forest, "do you?"

Harry looked at the forest too and didn't answer.

Hermione threw herself towards him and hugged him again. "No, Harry, please don't go in there!"

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he said, gently disentangling her. "I can go by myself and you can wait for me here."

Hermione buried her head in his chest, soaking his shirt with her tears. "No, I'll come with you," she said in a foreboding tone.

"You should come inside. It's going to rain tonight."

Harry and Hermione turned their heads towards the Caretaker, who stood right in front of his hut. They nodded as the first raindrops began to fall.

"So," said the man when they were all back in the house. "You are going to enter the Graveyard."

Harry nodded, while Hermione stood next to him, motionless.

"I must say that I thought that you would have been more intelligent," he said, grinning and sitting down again on the armchair.

"Mind your own business," said Harry rudely. "Is there something else that you didn't tell us and is worth knowing?"

The man frowned at him. "You shouldn't stay there after sunset."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't like to stay in a cemetery after sunset, and especially not a haunted one," said the man matter-of-factly.

Harry silently agreed with him. "Anything else?"

"Don't you have a map?" asked Hermione quickly.

The Caretaker laughed. "A map? It wouldn't be of any use."

"Why not?" asked Harry wearily, who, on the contrary, thought a map would have been very useful.

"Because things are not what they seem to be in that place," he answered cryptically.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"Have you ever been in a maze?" he asked them. Hermione shook her head, but Harry, remembering his fourth year a bit painfully, nodded. "It's like being in a maze, and things are not what they look to be."

"Do things change?" asked Hermione.

The Caretaker shook his head. "They are always the same, and if you see them change, it's all in your head. You have to pay close attention in order to find your way through the Graveyard, or the place will become your tomb as well."

"What?" asked Hermione, in a whisper that was barely audible.

"They said that there's something in that place, a curse. You always find what you are looking for, but you have to pay attention to what you are really seeking. Not what is in your mind, but what is in your heart," he said slowly. "Oh, look at the time. It's late," he added, looking at an old watch. "It's better if we go to bed now." He stood up from the armchair and started to walk towards one of the doors. "You can sleep here, if you wish. Good night," he said ungraciously before disappearing through a door, which was not the bathroom or the kitchen, before Hermione and Harry could answer him.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Are you still determined to enter the Graveyard?" she asked him.

"Now, more than ever," he answered seriously. "Voldemort has to pay for what he did and what he is still doing."

"He's dead. How do you think you'll make him pay?" asked Hermione softly.

Harry shrugged. "I'll find a way."

Hermione sighed and looked around. "Where should we sleep?"

"Let's try the armchair," said Harry slowly. They sat on it. Luckily, it was quite large, and they weren't too tall. They huddled up next to one another and tried to sleep. But they were both too agitated, and the armchair was too uncomfortable, so they slept only the first hours of the morning, and the Caretaker woke them at seven a.m.

"Are you still determined to enter the Graveyard?" he asked them as he entered the hut's main room.

"Yes," answered Harry sleepily as Hermione turned in her sleep.

The man laughed hard, causing Hermione to wake. "Well." He moved towards an old wardrobe and opened it, took out a small box, and picked out a key. "This is the key," he continued, throwing it to Harry. "For the main gate to enter the Graveyard."

Harry caught the key deftly. "Where's the gate?"

"Keep walking in that direction," he said, pointing east. "You'll find it. You can't miss it."

Harry nodded.

The man checked his watch. "But if I were you, I'd leave as soon as I could. The sun sets soon here."

Harry and Hermione stood up, both of them rubbing their backs and thinking that if they'd slept in the car, they would have had a better night's rest.

"Oh, just one last thing. You shouldn't be alone inside the Graveyard," he said, blinking owlishly. "It's better if you stay together. Never let go of the other's hand."

Harry and Hermione nodded, secretly thinking this man was a little bit more than off his rocker. "Thanks," said Hermione.

"You're welcome. If you don't come back, can I keep your car?" he asked practically.

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed Hermione gently out the door of the hut. The air was cool, but it was sunny and they were wearing coats. They had their wands in their pockets.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, taking Hermione's hand in his.

Hermione nodded as they started to walk along the fence. She had never felt less ready in her life.


	4. The Graveyard

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, her and only her.

A/N: Oh my, I love this chapter, and from now on I like almost all the chapters that I'm going to post! I hope you'll like it as well, I know, there's a cliffy end, but I just love to write cliff-hangers (I hate to read them, though…). And I know that I'm being very immodest in this Author's Note, but I couldn't help myself, luckily only the 2 of my readers read my Author's Notes. My beta-reader wrote that some parts were creepy, which is good because I wanted to make it creepy! Well, enjoy the chapter, and, if you want, let me know what do you think.

To Danii: Thanks a lot for your invaluable help, and I love your comments on my chapters.

**The Graveyard**

Hermione and Harry stopped dead in front of the most impressive gate they'd ever seen, and that was saying a lot, since they'd seen Hogwarts' impressive front entrance as well. But this one was completely different from Hogwarts'. Hermione clung to Harry as her eyes travelled up the tall iron bars that formed the gate. On the top of every bar, there was a skull, and in the very middle of the entrance, there was a skeleton pierced into a bar. Beyond the gate, they could see the graveyard, which at a first sight looked totally normal. There was a wide path that brought you to the middle of the cemetery, and far away, they could see some small black points and a tall building.

Hermione shivered and Harry felt it. "Are you all right?" he asked her.

"I don't like this place," she said simply.

"Come on, it's not so bad," he said, looking around.

"Look at that trees," she said, pointing at the trees that lined the path. "It looks like they're just waiting for us to come in, and then they'll jump on us."

Harry looked at Hermione and raised his eyebrows. "I think you're overreacting, Hermione," he said.

Hermione sighed. "I'm nervous."

"Me too," answered Harry, taking a deep breath. "Let's go," he added, walking towards the gate and taking the Caretaker's key out of his pocket. He searched for a hole, but didn't find anything. "Where the hell should I place this?" he asked, almost to himself.

"Maybe here," answered Hermione, pointing a finger towards the bar with the skeleton on top. Harry came up beside her and looked at the hole Hermione was indicated. He placed the key inside of it and the lock caught. He pushed the gate and it opened slowly. He took back the key before the gate was too far away and placed it back in his pocket. He took a step towards the entrance, but Hermione seized his arm.

"Harry, wait," she said, trying to mask the anxiety in her voice. Harry looked at her while she offered him her hand. "Promise me that you'll never let go of my hand," she said, looking into his eyes.

Harry looked at her hand and smiled. He took it and pulled Hermione towards him, kissing her on the lips. When he let her go, he hugged her and whispered in her ear, "I swear that I'll never let your hand go."

Hermione felt a bit less nervous. "I trust you, Harry."

They started to walk into the Graveyard, but as soon as they entered, they heard a loud crash behind them. Hermione let out a small scream of surprise and whirled back at the same moment as Harry. The gate had closed behind them.

"You took back the key, right?" asked Hermione, without taking away her eyes from the gate.

"I did," answered Harry, touching the key in his pocket.

"Good."

"Yeah."

They stood there for a while looking at the seashore beyond the gate. It looked normal. And even in the Graveyard itself, it looked perfectly all right.

Eventually Harry cleared his throat. "Should we go and have a look around?" he asked Hermione.

"Sure," said Hermione, tightening her grip on Harry's hand.

They turned and started to walk down the path. The place looked exactly like a normal cemetery.

"Okay, first of all, where do you want to go?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Well, there are quite a lot of sites that I want to visit. But I think we should start with the Weasleys," said Hermione thoughtfully.

Harry nodded. "Do you think that they have them buried all together?"

"I don't know. What other criteria would they have used?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. They were placed here with a charm. Maybe they were divided by gender, or by age."

Hermione nodded. "We should check out the first gravestones that we come across, and see which order they used."

"Okay – look, there's a stone," said Harry, pointing his finger to a grave. They walked towards it and bent down to read the inscription on it.

"Hannah Abbott," Hermione read aloud, bringing her free hand to her mouth. "Oh my God."

Harry nodded. They stood there for a while in respectful silence, then Harry pulled gently on Hermione's arm to get her to leave with him. "'Abbott'," he repeated. "They could be in alphabetical order."

"I hope not," said Hermione. "Because I don't want to cross this place to reach the 'W' section."

"You know, Hermione," said Harry, half smiling, "I think it's not all that bad here, after all. I think the Caretaker just wanted to scare us."

"I don't know," she said uncertainly. "I don't like it. I have a strange feeling about this place – look, another stone." They walked up to it, and after reading the name 'Pansy Parkinson', they walked away.

"Okay, scratch the alphabetical order," said Harry.

"And also the division of 'good' and 'evil'," Hermione pointed out.

"Maybe it's all women here, and all men there," he said, pointing in front of him. But after the next gravestone, which held the name 'Cormac McLaggen', they rejected that possibility. Hermione knelt next to the stone and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Hermione, come on, you cannot spend all the day on McLaggen's grave," said Harry, strangely irritated after only fifteen seconds.

Hermione looked at him with tears in her eyes. "He was our friend, Harry."

"He was going with you," muttered Harry grumpily.

Hermione ignored him and followed Harry away from the tomb. "You know what I was thinking?" she asked him, wiping her eyes. "That till now, we've only found all _our_ schoolmates. Maybe they divided them by age."

"Yeah, that could be it," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"Look, another grave," said Hermione. "Oh, okay, it's not an age division, after all," she said, disappointed. In fact, it was the grave of Pomona Sprout. Hermione and Harry indulged a little by the tomb of their former professor, and then they walked away.

"You know, I'm starting to think that there's no order at all," said Harry, looking around.

"I don't know – oh, wait. Harry, I can't find my wand!" said Hermione, patting her jeans frantically.

"What?" asked Harry, "Hermione, you can't lose your wand in a moment like this," he said seriously.

"I've never lost my wand," she answered hastily. "Let's go back and look for it – oh, there it is," she said with relief, spotting her wand next to the tomb that they had just left. She walked towards it dragging Harry with her, and when she bent down to pick it up, she looked at the gravestone and stopped dead.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, looking at her in concern.

She stood up slowly without taking her eyes away from the stone. Harry followed her gaze and stopped dead just like her. "This cannot be," he whispered. "Are you sure this is the same tomb from before?"

"Do you see any other tomb here? And my wand was here," answered Hermione, her eyes still on the grave.

"There must be a mistake, then," said Harry. "That's Lucius Malfoy's name on this stone," he said.

"I know, and just two seconds ago it was Professor Sprout's," said Hermione.

"Let's go back and check the other graves," said Harry and without waiting for Hermione's reply, he pulled her along with him. The graves of Stan Shunpike, Nymphadora Tonks and Theodore Nott lay where there should have been Cormac McLaggen, Pansy Parkinson and Hannah Abbott.

"How is this possible?" asked Harry. "Maybe we should leave and come back tomorrow, when we're a little bit more calm," he suggested.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, we should reflect on this for sure."

They turned towards where they were sure the gate stood, but they were mistaken.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, looking at the barrier of trees in front of them. "Where's the gate?"

"It was here," answered Harry, tightening his grip on Hermione's hand. "I'm sure it was here."

"Me too," she answered feebly.

"Okay, listen, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said, looking into Hermione's eyes. "If we don't find the gate, that means that we just mistook the way. That would also explain the names on the graves changing."

Hermione nodded.

"Let's go back to where we were and find another way," said Harry, but when he turned, he felt his knees go weak.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, looking in front of her and shivering. "Where are the graves?"

All the graves that they'd seen twice had now completely disappeared.

"I don't know," said Harry truthfully. He felt Hermione trembling, then, to his great surprise, she started to speak in a steady, firm voice. "Okay, listen," she began. "Remember what the Caretaker said?"

"He said quite a lot of things," stated Harry with a frown.

"Well, yes, but he said that all the changes that happen here are in our mind. They're not real," explained Hermione. "If we don't believe in the changes, they won't happen."

"Are you sure?"

"No," said Hermione sadly. "But it's the only explanation I have."

Harry nodded. "The Caretaker said also something else; that in this place, you always find what you are looking for. If we concentrate on a person that we want to find, then, maybe we'll be able to find them, don't you think?" He looked at her, hoping that she'd approve.

Hermione smiled. "Good idea, Harry," she said.

Harry smiled back to her. "Well, who do we want to find first?" he asked, looking around.

Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "For me, it's quite obvious, and I thought it was for you too," she said slowly. "Ron."

Harry looked at her. "Of course," he said slowly. "I just wanted to be sure that we wanted to find the same person."

"Our best friend, the man with whom we shared everything, the one that was always with us – did you want to find someone else first?" she asked him in a slightly rude tone thick with grief.

"No," said Harry, without even knowing that he was lying both to himself and to her.

"Okay." Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Let's concentrate on him. We want to find him." Harry closed his eyes as well and tried to picture Ron's face in his mind.

"Do you feel something different?" asked Hermione after a while.

"Something like what?"

"Something like the desire of going somewhere rather than somewhere else," she said matter-of-factly.

Harry concentrated. "No," he said.

"Maybe it doesn't work like that," Hermione pointed out. "Maybe we have to walk and we'll just come across Ron's grave."

Harry nodded. "Let's try."

They walked for what seemed ages, but this time, not only did they not find Ron's grave, they didn't come across any graves at all.

"Harry, where are all the graves that are supposed to be here?" asked Hermione, trying to tighten her grip on Harry's hand even more, despite the fact that her knuckles were white.

Harry looked around, starting to feel annoyance towards this girl that kept on asking him things he didn't know. He was going to snap at her to think of something herself, since she was so intelligent, when a loud thunderclap captured their attention. They turned their head towards the source of the sound and stood petrified.

A whirlwind was coming towards them as if they were its goals. Harry was the first to shake off the fear and he started to run, dragging Hermione with him. "Run, Hermione," he screamed while the thunder became even louder.

"Harry! Wait!" he heard her screaming. He turned and saw her falling, and then he lost her hand and the whirlwind swallowed them both.


	5. Divided

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, and , unluckily, it'll never be. But I like to borrow its characters and play a bit with them.

A/N: Summer is wonderful! I don't have anything to do, my beta- reader has more free-time, and there's the sun. Okay, the sun didn't matter, but I like it. Anyway, a nice quick update, happy? I hope so, and I hope you'll find this chapter even creepier than the last one. This chapter looks almost like a script for a horror B-movie, doesn't it? Well, then I hope you like horror B-movies. Enjoy it.

To Danii: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this. I couldn't have found somebody of nicer.

**Divided**

Hermione brought her hands to her ribs and moaned. She was sure she'd broken something, but she was grateful to be still alive. She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, waiting for her sight to become clearer. When she was finally able to distinguish things in front of her, she tried to stand up. It took several, and the first time she gained her footing, she fell down.

"I hope I didn't break anything," she muttered, managing to stand up again. When she was finally sure that she would not fall down again, the first thing that crossed her mind was to check her pocket for her wand. It was still there. Her second thought was for Harry.

"Harry?" she called. "Harry!" she called out louder. "Harry!" she screamed. She heard the echoes of her screams, but nobody answered her. "Great," she muttered.

Then she became aware of something strange. Before the whirlwind had taken her, it was sunny and not too cold, but now it was freezing, and the sky was covered with black clouds that didn't look good. It was darker than before, and not only because of the clouds. On the contrary, it was getting darker every second, and it seemed like sunset was approaching faster than normal.

Hermione looked around again. This time, she was not searching for Harry, but searching for a familiar landmark. She knew she had very few hopes though, because she just saw the small piece of cemetery that went from the gate to the fourth gravesite. She was in a place totally different from where she had been with Harry. Rocks and leafless trees, from what she could see, surrounded her. The light was quickly decreasing.

She decided to have a look around. She took a deep breath and stepped towards a group of graves she saw from where she stood.

"After all," she said out loud to penetrate the dead silence of the place. "If Harry was looking for Ron's grave too, we should meet up soon."

She reached the first grave and as soon as she read the inscription, her heart gave a jolt of joy. It was Ron's. She fell on her knees near it and her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, Ron," she whispered, stretching out a hand to touch the stone. It was cold, so cold that she pulled away her arm right after her fingers brushed it. She sighed and looked away, and when her eyes fell on the next gravestone, she thought she must have gone mad. She stood up quickly and rushed towards the next gravestone where the name 'Ronald Weasley' was carved. She turned to stare at the grave that she had just left, but to her great shock, there were no graves to be seen. She stepped back, tripped over another gravestone and fell to the ground. She sat up and sat there for a while, waiting for her breath to return to normal as she got over the astonishment. There was something strange in this place, of that she was sure.

She stood up and walked quickly towards the other graves, passing from one to another and always seeing the same name on them, Ron's. When she reached the last grave of that group, she turned slowly to look back the way she had come. All the graves had disappeared. Hermione lit her wand, thinking that the darkness was playing a joke on her. But there really were no graves, except for the last one she had seen.

She stood there for a while, then slowly her eyes filled with tears and some of them fell down her cheeks. "Harry," she called in what should have been a cry, but came out as a bare whisper. She fell to her knees and dropped her wand, extinguishing the light. She dropped her face in her hands and began to weep.

When she heard steps coming towards her, she raised her head, hoping to see Harry standing there. But nobody was there.

"Why are you crying?"

Hermione's eyes opened wide. She looked closely in front of her, but she didn't see anybody. She picked up her wand and scrambled to her feet.

"Who are you?" she asked, fear thick in her voice.

Nobody answered. She lit her wand again and moved it to her right and left. But there was nobody in sight. She thought that maybe she really had gone mad.

"No, you are not mad," said the voice, as if he was able to read her thoughts.

"Who are you?" asked Hermione again, her wand now shaking in her trembling hand.

"Hermione, don't you recognize me?" said the voice scornfully.

She looked around, turning hysterically in every direction.

"Where are you?" she called nervously.

"I'm here," the voice echoed from every direction. "Don't you recognize my voice?"

She tried to listen to it, but the voice held something strange, something preternatural, but at the same time she knew that she had already heard it somewhere in the past.

"Oh, Hermione," started the voice derisively. "I thought that you cared more for me. After all, if you found me, that means you were looking for me."

"I'm looking for Harry," screamed Hermione, even if she knew it wasn't true.

"Liar," said the voice calmly.

Hermione was on the edge of tears, and she really started to cry when an invisible force pulled her wand away and she was once again swallowed by darkness. She fell to her knees and started to cry. "Go away," she wept.

"Hermione, look at me."

It was almost like an order and she felt she couldn't do differently from what she was told. She raised her head and looked at the figure that stood in front of her. Her eyes widened even more and her mouth opened in a scream of horror and fear, and if the place hadn't been enchanted, Harry would have definitely heard her.

---

At that very moment, on the other side of the Graveyard, Harry was sitting on a rock and looking at his hands. He had been transported there by the whirlwind and placed quite roughly on a patch of grass, but the landscape around him wasn't very different from where he'd been before, and from what he could see through the darkness, the gate was still quite near. There was just one grave near him, but he hadn't bent down to see the name on it yet. He was sure it was Ron's. The strange thing, that there wasn't in the place where he'd stood before with Hermione, was a cave dug into a small hill at his back.

Harry's white face was the portrait of desperation. He sat there as if he was waiting for the end of the world.

"Hermione," he muttered, dropping his face into his hands. He had lost her, even after he had promised her that he would never let her hand go. "I really hope that you are alright," he said.

He would have sat up and looked around for her, but he had already called her name twice and hadn't received an answer, so he decided to stay there and wait for her to arrive. After all, they were looking for the same grave. They would meet up.

"Are you sure?"

Harry raised his head slowly, but he didn't see anybody. He thought that being punched up and down by a whirlwind was causing side effects. He was starting to hear voices. He decided to ignore it.

"You can't ignore me," said the voice, which had a vaguely feminine sense.

Harry took out his wand from his pocket and, exactly as Hermione had, he lit it. He looked intently around him, but he saw nothing different from before. He was going to turn off the light from his wand, when he heard a laugh and saw a shadow moving some feet away from him. Harry jumped to his feet and stretched out an arm for better vision.

"Hermione?" he called uncertainly.

He heard another laugh, something that made him shiver. "No, I'm not Hermione," said the voice, stressing Hermione's name in a very nasty way.

"Who – who are you?" asked Harry, trying to keep his voice calm. It was in vain.

"Oh, Harry," said the voice. "I can't believe you don't remember me."

"I can't see you," said Harry defensively.

"You don't have to see me," said the voice, "to remember me."

"It would help, though," muttered Harry, almost to himself.

"What do you feel?"

"What?" he asked, disoriented. He didn't know where to look or where to point his wand.

"What do you feel?" repeated the voice in a more sensual way. Harry was sure that it was a woman. "What do you feel while you are listening to me?"

He was afraid, but he would never admit that.

"No, Harry, it's not fear that makes your stomach whirl." Harry heard the voice coming closer to him. "It's lust," it whispered in his ear.

"No!" Harry cried. "Who are you?" he asked, looking around fearfully.

He heard another laugh. "Do you really want to know? You don't have to do anything else than check my name on that grave," said the voice.

Harry glanced at the grave and started to step towards it cautiously. He raised his wand in front of the name and his wand fell on the ground. He touched the stone and looked with wide eyes at the letters while he fell to his knees.

"Oh, poor little boy," said the voice mockingly. "You lied to your girlfriend. You said that you wanted to find your best friend and instead you were looking for me."

Harry didn't reply. Half-shocked and half-pleased, he closed his eyes and thought of Hermione sheepishly for the last time, before a hand touched his shoulder and everything went dark.


	6. Ghosts

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

A/N: I'm particularly sorry for the delay, because I know that the last chapter ended with a cliff-hanger. But here you are! I really hope that you'll enjoy this one, even if it sounds like a horror movie. Well, don't know what else saying here, maybe I'll just give you a little warn. These ghosts aren't exactly who they look like they are, I know that Ron and Ginny would never do/say these things, but it's not their fault. Oh, but you'll see.

To Danii: Thanks a lot for all the wonderful comments that you left and for the great work you did on this chapter.

**Ghosts**

"No!" screamed Hermione, regaining the power of speech. She looked at the red-haired man that stood in front of her, unable to look away. "No, you are not here," she cried, covering her face with her hands.

The man smiled. "I'm here, Hermione."

"No, you are dead, you cannot be here," said Hermione, clutching chunks of her hair. "You are only in my mind. You are only in my mind," she muttered.

"I'm here," said the man in a sing song voice.

Hermione shook her head. "No."

"Hermione, look at me," said the man sweetly. "Look at me," he repeated, since Hermione didn't dare to remove her hands from her face.

"Good girl," he said, smiling when Hermione raised her eyes and looked between her fingers. "You are so beautiful."

"No," she whimpered. "You aren't him. He would never say something like that."

"Of course I would, Hermione."

"No, no, no," she muttered.

The man stretched an arm in her direction, and Hermione moved back, falling on her back. She searched for her wand, but it was nowhere in sight. "Don't touch me!" she cried.

The man smiled and moved away his arm. "I just wanted to help you to your feet," he said gently.

"Don't you dare touch me," she repeated hysterically, breathing heavily.

The man raised his hands and smiled. "As you wish," he said, sitting on the gravestone with a leg dangling.

Hermione rolled over and started to crawl away, looking for her wand in the darkness.

"Are you looking for this?" asked the man from behind her.

Hermione turned and, horror struck, saw that he was playing with her wand.

The man stopped playing and stretched his wand arm towards her. "Take it," he said softly.

Hermione looked at him diffidently while she got on her feet. She wasn't stupid. She didn't even know what he would do to her if given the chance.

"I won't do anything. Come on, take it," said the man patiently.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. She didn't want to go near him, but he had her wand, and without her wand she could do very little. She started to move in the man's direction, and slowly, she stretched out an arm to take her wand.

The man smiled, but didn't say anything.

Hermione took another step in his direction and stretched her fingers till they hurt. At first, she just brushed her wand tip, then she seized it and pulled it towards her, but the man didn't let go. She raised her fearful eyes from the wand to the man, who was smiling evilly. He moved his other hand so quickly that Hermione didn't even see it. She just had time to hear a sarcastic "Oops" coming from the man, and then she felt the tight painful grip of his hand around her wrist while the wand fell to the ground. And in a moment, nothing else mattered to Hermione except the fact that she was there. With Ron.

She blinked a couple of times and breathed deeply to keep from crying. Then she looked at Ron, who still had held her wrist. "Ron," she said, smiling. Ron smiled back, slowly letting go of her arm and leaving a purple-blue mark on it, but Hermione didn't seem to feel it.

"Hermione," he murmured, brushing her cheek with his cold fingers.

"Ron, where are we?" she asked him slowly.

"Close your eyes," he said, coming closer to her. Hermione obeyed. "Where do you want to be?"

She took a deep breath and tried to think of a place where she had been happy with Ron. The Burrow was her first thought.

"Done," Ron murmured in her ear, and when she opened her eyes, she and Ron were no longer in the cold dark Graveyard, but in the middle of the living room in the Burrow.

Hermione looked around and laughed in delight. "Oh, Ron. We're home," she said, smiling, and started dancing in circles around the room.

"Yes, Hermione," said Ron softly. "We are home."

Hermione stopped for a while, with a thoughtful expression. "But someone is missing," she said.

"What?" asked Ron, trying to cover the anxiety in his voice.

Hermione nodded. "There were more people here," she said.

Ron came closer to her and hugged her from behind, placing his hands on her belly and his chin on her shoulder. "They're all out there, look," he said, pointing a finger out of the window. A group of red heads was visible, waving cheerily. Hermione looked at them intently.

"Do you still think someone's missing?" asked Ron sweetly.

Hermione nodded. "Ginny," she said pensively.

Ron smiled. "Oh, but Ginny had something to do. She'll be here soon, though."

Hermione nodded again. "But there was still someone else," she said, looking around.

"There was nobody else," said Ron hastily. "Just me and you." He brushed Hermione's hair from her face and kissed her cheek. Hermione closed her eyes. "Just you and me," she repeated like she was in a trance.

Ron smiled and made Hermione turn. He bent down and kissed her. Hermione felt her head becoming lighter. She still had her eyes shut, and she felt like she was flying.

Ron ran his fingers through her hair and trailed down her back. He reached the hem of her shirt and went up again on her bare skin. Hermione moaned and Ron felt her hands pushing on his back to make him come closer.

He knew she was already in his power.

---

Harry was looking at the gravestone without moving. He silently read the name carved on it for the hundredth time. _Ginny Weasley._ He felt the hand of the girl that stood behind him pressing into his shoulder.

"Surprised, Harry?" she asked him maliciously. "Who did you think you were looking for? Ron?"

"I-I have to find-"

"Who, Harry?" asked the girl mockingly. "Someone so important to you that you can't even remember her name?"

"I-I remember her name," said Harry, trying to think hard.

The girl laughed. "I see."

Harry turned his head towards the girl that stood in front of him. "S-she-"

"She what, Harry? Doesn't she have a name?"

Harry brought his hands to his head and closed his eyes, trying to remember the name of that person. Trying to picture her face in his mind.

"You don't remember her," said the girl derisively. "Come with me, maybe this will help," she added, taking his hand and guiding him towards another tomb. "Is this her?" she asked, laughing.

Harry kneeled down to see the name on the gravestone. It was a name that Harry knew should not have been there.

"Is it her?" repeated the girl louder. "Is Hermione Granger the one you were looking for?"

"Hermione," Harry murmured, touching the stone.

"How pathetic you are, Harry," sneered the girl. "She is dead."

Harry looked at the girl. "No, Ginny, s-she can't be dead," he said, on the verge of tears.

Ginny knelt down next to him. "She is dead, and guess who killed her?" she said, moving Harry's hair away from his ear. "Guess who killed her, Harry."

Harry didn't answer.

"You killed her, Harry," whispered Ginny in his ear.

"No," cried Harry, "No!"

"Oh, yes, you killed her, right after you lied to her," said Ginny. "You told her that you would never let her go, and all that was necessary to divide you was some wind; you told her you wanted to find Ron, but at the bottom of your heart, you were willing to meet me instead." Ginny bit Harry's ear gently. "Me, your girlfriend," she murmured sensually. She placed a hand on Harry's chest and rubbed up and down slowly. "The only one that you have ever loved," she added, starting to kiss Harry's cheek and moving slowly down his neck with her tongue. Harry shivered with pleasure and Ginny's lips opened in a small smile on his skin.

"Who's better? Me or that filthy little Mudblood?" she asked slowly.

Harry moaned 'you' to Ginny, who laughed softly. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. Then she pulled away and laughed. Harry looked at her bemused. She wore a fierce smile upon her face.

"What do you feel, now?" she asked him. "Happiness? Joy? Desire?" Ginny started to walk towards the cave. "I'll tell you what you feel," she continued. "You want me, you want me with all your mind, all your heart, all your body. You want me right now." She looked amused as she stopped to face him. "It took you so little to forget _her_. And everybody claimed you were the great Potter, the one that destroyed the Dark Lord." She laughed evilly.

Harry looked at Ginny without understanding whom that 'her' was referring to.

"Look around, Harry," she said, sweeping her arm in a circle. "Look at these people." Harry glanced all around him. It was darker than before, but he was able to distinguish some forms lying on the ground. He moved towards the closest and saw that it was a girl. She had long blonde hair and white skin, and was lying there in an unnatural way, with her left arm folded in the wrong direction; she had blue eyes. Blue eyes? Harry looked at her face and saw a worm creeping on her cheek. He screamed and stepped back, fighting the urge to vomit.

Ginny laughed harder than before. "She is dead, Harry," she explained between bursts of laughter. "Like everybody here." She nodded towards the other corpses that looked like they had multiplied. "And guess whose fault it is?" she said in a sing song voice.

Harry brought his hands to his head. "N-no," he muttered.

Ginny laughed again and ran into the cave. "Ginny, wait!" cried Harry, running after her desperately.

Inside, the cave was even darker than outside. He stopped abruptly when he felt the ground under his feet slope down.

"Do you want some light?" asked Ginny from somewhere on the other side of the cave and, without waiting for his answer, snapped her fingers. As the cave lit, Harry felt the urge to run out. He turned towards the entrance, but it was blocked. Rather, it was like there was no entrance at all. He turned again and pressed his back to the wall, his eyes wide. The cave was full of people. They stood, but Harry knew they were dead. They had their eyes fixed on him, their skin was a pale shade of green, and they looked like they were going to decompose at any moment.

Harry searched for his wand in his pockets, but his wand lay somewhere outside.

"Oh, Harry, how silly you are," said Ginny, sitting on a rock.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked her weakly.

"Why-" she started with her eyes wide opened. "Why am I doing this to you?" she asked, giggling. "Harry, you killed all these people. Now, they just want revenge," she explained as if she was talking to a child.

"I-I didn't kill them," stammered Harry. "V-Voldemort-"

"Leave the Dark Lord out of this," Ginny said dangerously. "And who told you that rubbish?" she asked, returning to her gentle tone. "Dumbledore? That Mudblood?"

Harry took a hand to his temple. "I-I don't know."

"You don't know?" asked Ginny, raising her eyebrows.

"I-I can't remember-"

"You can't remember?" she said, laughing. "That's so sad. Maybe you don't remember because nobody told you."

"No," murmured Harry, looking at a sneering Ginny. "No, I'm sure-"

"No, no, no," said Ginny teasingly. "You don't know anything, Harry. You don't remember anything."

Harry slipped down the wall and sat on the bare rock floor. He drew his legs to his chest and looked blankly in front of him, waiting for something to happen.


	7. The Bed

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Not at all.

A/N: Well, sincerely, re-reading this chapter I didn't find it very good. Luckily my wonderful beta-reader helped me and now it's almost okay. Oh, but I hope that you'll like it.

To Danii: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter.

**The Bed**

Ron slowly let go of Hermione. She licked her lips and moaned softly while a small smile appeared on her face. Then she opened her eyes and looked at Ron. "I love you," she said slowly.

Ron smiled. "I love you too," he said, bending down and kissing her again.

When he moved away he looked into her eyes. "Hermione, do you remember when I asked you to marry me?" he asked seriously.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Do you still want to?"

"Oh, Ron, of course I do," she said, throwing herself towards him. "It just happened yesterday night! Why should I have changed my mind in so little time?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders and smiled bashfully. "I just wanted to be sure."

"Ron, I don't think that I could be happier than I am now," said Hermione, sitting on the sofa in the living room. "I can't wait to marry you."

Ron sat down next to her and took her hands in his. "I can't wait either, Hermione. But," he stopped for a while, looking out of the window. "We can't marry before you do something, Hermione."

Hermione placed her hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. "What?" she asked anxiously. "Ron, you know that I'll do anything for you."

Ron looked into her eyes and, smiling evilly, he came closer to her, sank his face into her neck and whispered in her ear, "You have to die."

Hermione's eyes opened wide for an instant, then she returned to normal as she felt Ron's lips on her neck. "I will," she murmured, hugging Ron. "I'll do anything for you."

Ron sat up and took her hand. "Come with me," he said sweetly. Hermione sat up as well and followed him.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they climbed up the stairs. Ron didn't answer, but he didn't stop until they reached the room at the very top of the house. He pushed open the door with the sign 'Ronald's Room' on it and guided Hermione in. He locked the door behind them and leaned against it.

"Your room," said Hermione, touching the walls covered with posters of the Chudley Cannons. "Why did you bring me to your room?" she asked him innocently.

"Because it's where you have to die," he said matter-of-factly.

Hermione nodded and smiled.

Ron crossed the room and sat down on his bed, patting the spot next to him. "Sit down, Hermione." Hermione took seat next to him. She looked calm, but as Ron put his arm around her shoulders, he felt her muscles tense.

"Calm down, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "It will only last a second, and then everything will be over. Everything will be fine and we will be together, forever."

Hermione relaxed and leaned against Ron. She closed her eyes and muttered, "Do it quickly."

Ron looked at her and laughed. "Oh no, Hermione," he said, "You do it quickly."

Hermione opened her eyes to look at him and saw a dagger lying at her feet. She looked at Ron in confusion.

"Hermione, you have to show me if you really care for me," he explained. "If you care, _kill yourself_."

Hermione stared at the dagger for what seemed ages, but Ron seemed to be in no hurry at all, because he didn't say anything or move. If Hermione hadn't been so sure that he was alive, she almost would have thought that he was dead.

"Okay," she answered after a while, standing up from the bed and leaving a sneering Ron behind her. "Okay, I'll do-" But her words died in her throat as she saw something on the other side of the room.

"You'll do it?" asked Ron hastily.

Hermione didn't answer, but started to walk slowly towards the other side of the room. "Hermione?" asked Ron while his sneer faded away.

"There's another bed here," she said, without looking away from the small bed against the wall.

"Really? Who cares?" asked Ron, his voice giving away a note of annoyance.

"Who is this bed for?" she asked, stopping inches from it.

"Nobody," said Ron hastily.

Hermione seemed to think hardly at something. "No, it was for somebody," she murmured.

Ron decided to change strategy. "It's for you, Hermione," he said eagerly. "This was your bed when you came here."

Hermione kept on staring at the bed, without giving signs that she had heard Ron or that she agreed with him.

"Hermione?" Ron called her impatiently.

"No," she said in a bare whisper. "It wasn't my bed."

"Hermione, who cares?" asked Ron again, this time taking a step towards her.

"I care," she answered slowly.

"Hermione, look at me," ordered Ron. But she didn't turn and he knew that he was going to lose her. "Hermione, move away from that bed."

Hermione didn't move. "When I came here," she said, her voice thick with memory, "I didn't sleep here. I slept with Ginny, in her bedroom."

"Really?" Ron picked up the dagger and took a step towards Hermione. "I don't remember that."

"I didn't come here alone," she said, without even listening to him. "You always invited me with someone else."

"And this someone else was?" asked Ron, coming dangerously close to Hermione.

She bit her bottom lip. "I don't know."

"You don't know because you don't remember his name, or you don't know because there was nobody you came with?" asked Ron, stopping inches from her.

"I can't remember his name," she said, half-closing her eyes in the effort of remembering.

Ron smiled and brushed away her hair from her neck. He hugged her and moved the dagger near her neck. "He was not important, then," he breathed into her ear.

Hermione shut her eyes and breathed deeply while Ron pressed the blade on her neck. "One last word?" he asked her mockingly.

Hermione nodded. "Harry," she breathed.

"What?" asked Ron, the dagger shaking in his hand.

"Harry," she repeated louder. "This was his bed."

Ron let the dagger go and it fell on the floor with a _clang_. He stepped back and released Hermione as she fell to her knees. She looked at her wrist, and it started to ache at once. She saw a hand shaped bruise where Ron had seized her earlier.

It took her less than a second to realize what had just happened. She turned quickly and she saw Ron looked at her with red eyes, Voldemort's eyes. She stood up and looked for her wand in her pockets, but then she remembered that it lay outside.

"Don't think that you'll be able to escape this place," hissed Ron in an unnatural hiss. "You are going to die, like everybody before you."

Hermione moved quickly towards the door of the room, but something like an earth tremor made her fall. She looked at Ron and saw that his face was changing. He was becoming paler every second, and his nose was disappearing from his face.

"See," he hissed. "You ruined everything."

Hermione looked at the walls that were shaking furiously and some great cracks were appearing all over them. She managed to get on her feet and reached the door. She turned the key in the lock, drawing in rattling breaths, and tore it open.

"No!" She heard Ron's voice behind her. "No, Hermione, don't leave me here!" She glanced back and saw Ron's face almost back to normal with a fearful look upon it. She bit her bottom lip and gulped, but almost immediately, she thought of Harry instead.

"You'll never find him," hissed Ron, and this time his face was once again almost identical to Voldemort's. "You'll never be able to save him. Don't you see, Mudblood? He didn't even look for you. He preferred my sister to you, he preferred a corpse to you." After he said that, Hermione didn't have the heart to think of him as Ron anymore. "He is as good as dead," hissed the spirit before a piece of roof collapsed on his back and he lay motionless.

Hermione took a deep breath and walked quickly out of the room. She went down the stairs two at a time, and rushed out the door while the house fell into pieces around her. She ran out and didn't stop till she felt that her lungs were going to burst. She stood still for a while, hearing a loud crash at her back. She didn't turn till the silence fell again in that place, then she slowly turned her face towards where the Burrow had stood. But there was nothing, not even a ruin or debris.

Hermione waited till her breath was back to normal and, as she looked at the ground, she saw a little stick between the rocks. Her wand. Then she became aware that around her it was no longer dark. To the contrary; it was sunny again. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as Harry's face filled her mind. She thought that he was the one she wanted to find, the one she had to find, before it was too late.

---

Ginny looked away from Harry's curled body circled by the corpses and, with bloodshot eyes, she glanced outside the cave.

"That stupid inept. He failed," she muttered. "Never mind. I'll be utterly glad to torture both of them before seeing them die."

And with a sneer she turned her attention to the sobbing Harry once again.


	8. Looking for Harry

Disclaimer: I own not Harry Potter.

A/N: So sorry for the delay, my beta was busy. Don't really know what to say in this Author's Note, except for the fact that it has a cliffy-end (I love cliff-hangers!), and I hope that it won't take too much for the next chapter. Oh yes, it's creepy! Yay for that! Enjoy it!

To Danii: Thanks a lot for beta-reading and for saying that you liked it.

**Looking for Harry**

Hermione freed her mind from every thought that didn't concern Harry and kept walking, following her intuition. She walked like a sleepwalker, but she didn't fall. It was as if the rocks and the trees moved away when she approached them. She had Harry's face in front of her, and every step she took, she knew that she was getting closer to him.

She heard someone's steps at her side, but didn't dare look. She kept her mind on her destination: Harry. She bit her lip as a cold breeze ruffled her hair and made her coat flare around her body, but she didn't stop and ordered herself not to be afraid. Easier said than done.

She placed her hands in her pockets and kept walking. She tightened her hand around her wand till her knuckles began to ache.

"Where do you think you are going, Miss Granger?"

Hermione raised her eyes and looked at the pale ghost of Professor McGonagall, who was glaring at her. "You were one of the most stupid students I've ever had."

Hermione bit her lip and walked past the ghost.

"Didn't you know it was me who killed Weasel, Mudblood?" asked a male voice at Hermione's back. She turned quickly and saw Draco Malfoy's pointed face in front of her. Malfoy sneered. "Our little filthy Mudblood is lost," he said in a sing song voice.

"I'm not lost," muttered Hermione, turning her head hastily and starting to walk again with her eyes low.

"Are you sure, Hermione?"

Hermione raised her eyes again and this time she saw Neville's round face smiling warmly. "Maybe I can help you," he said, stretching out an arm.

Hermione looked at it for a moment and then stepped back and changed her direction a few feet, giving Neville's outstretched hand a wide berth.

"Do you think you can ignore us?" asked Snape's fluctuating body next to Hermione. "You can't."

Hermione picked up her wand from her pocket and kept walking with her eyes low.

"And what would you do with that?" asked Bellatrix Lestrange, taking Snape's place at her side. "Do you seriously think that a wand will harm us in any way?"

Hermione stopped abruptly and turned towards her with her wand raised, but she found herself pointing her wand at Mrs. Weasley's throat. Mrs. Weasley gulped.

"H-Hermione, do you really want to kill me?" she stammered in a shaking voice.

Hermione's arm started to shake, so she lowered her wand and began to walk faster.

"That's so stupid, Mudblood," said Draco Malfoy at her back. "So damn stupid indeed."

"I thought you loved Ron, Hermione," said Professor Lupin. "He just asked you a little sacrifice. Was it so difficult to do? You should see him now, you broke his heart."

Hermione started to run, but the spirits didn't seem to care. On the contrary; they looked almost amused to have a little hunt.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Lucius Malfoy, appearing in front of her. "You don't even have the strength to find your friend, that Potter boy. Did he say that he loved you?" he asked her teasingly.

Hermione passed by him, trying not to pay any attention to any of them.

"Wait, wait, what were his words? 'I swear that I'll never let your hand go'," said Malfoy in a perfect imitation of Harry's voice which caused Hermione to stop and look around aimlessly. "But he let go, didn't he?" asked Malfoy, sneering. "He didn't care for you, and now you are here all alone."

Hermione shook her head vehemently and pressed her hands to her ears. But the voices didn't stop. They were in her mind.

"Do you want to know what Harry's doing right now?" asked Bill Weasley's ghost. "He is reunited with my sister. The only one that he ever really loved."

Hermione felt a tear running down her cheek. "I mustn't listen," she muttered to herself. "You are not here."

"Maybe we're not," said Lavender Brown. "But Harry isn't here, either."

Hermione pointed her wand in front of her and muttered the first spell that came into her mind.

"Expecto Patronum."

A small silver otter appeared at the end of her wand and started to run around her, creating a barrier that kept the ghosts outside.

The spirit of Dean Thomas looked surprised as the otter appeared, then he smiled. "Quite clever," he said, looking at her. "But we are not Dementors. And you are too frightened to be able to keep that thing alive," he said, nodding towards the otter, which was becoming smaller and smaller.

Hermione knew he was right, but all she needed was some time to concentrate. She took a deep breath and looked resolutely at the ghost in front of her. "I don't care what you are saying about me or about Harry," she said determinedly. "You are dead and I'm alive, and I'll do my best to find Harry and leave this place with him."

The otter grew and Hermione started to walk forward as it followed. She didn't hear any other voices and didn't see any other ghosts.

Finally, she reached a place that she recognized. She was very close to the gate, and even if trees covered it, she knew it was somewhere near.

"Harry!" she called loudly. "Harry!"

But nobody answered her. She sat down on a rock, before she realized she was sitting on a grave. She jumped to her feet, horror stricken. She bent down to read the name on it, but there was no name.

She looked around and noticed something that she hadn't seen before. The entrance to a cave. She looked at the silver otter and it vanished. Then she took a deep breath, and started to walk towards the cave. She walked slowly and carefully, looking where she placed her feet, because she didn't have any intentions of stepping on a grave or, worse, a corpse.

It was while she was looking intently at the ground that she found a little wooden stick in the grass.

She picked it up and stared at it, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"Harry," she murmured as she recognised his wand. She looked down again and saw that the grass was flattened in some places, as if someone had just stepped there and that someone was walking towards the cave. She placed the wand in her pocket and stepped determinedly in the direction of the entrance. She entered the cave and found herself immersed in darkness once again.

"Lumos."

She looked toward the middle of the cave, which was quite small, and saw a man with his arms around his legs, rocking slowly.

"Harry," said Hermione, running towards him. "Harry!" She kneeled down quickly next to him and hugged him tightly. "I was starting to think that I would never see you again," she said, hiding her face in the hollow of his throat, and started to cry.

She let him go slowly when she realized that he wasn't hugging her back.

"Harry?" she asked, looking into his eyes. They were empty, exactly like hers when she was under the Memory Charm. She brought her hands to her mouth in terror.

"Harry," she murmured, brushing his cheek. "Do you remember me?"

He didn't look at her, he didn't even give a sign he was aware that she was there.

"Harry, look at me," she said, taking his face in her hands and making him look at her. "Harry, it's me, Hermione." Harry looked at her, but when Hermione let him go, he continued to stare straight in front of him.

"Harry, we have to get out of here," she said, standing up and pulling on his hand. "Let's go," she added, trying to make him sit up. "Once we're out of this place, everything will be fine."

Harry looked at her, without any emotion. "Harry, come on," she said, with tears in her eyes. "Stand up," she added, frustrated. But Harry sat there with no intention of going anywhere.

Hermione kneeled next to him once more. "Harry, please, listen to me," she said, taking his face in her hands again. "Harry, we have to go. We don't belong here."

But he didn't move.

Hermione let go and, for a terrible second, she felt that she might have arrived too late. She curled up next to him and started to sob. Next to her, Harry muttered something incomprehensible.

Hermione looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "What?" she asked him hopefully.

He moved his lips and formed the name 'Ginny' without speaking.

Hermione wiped away her tears and looked at him without comprehension. She looked around, but didn't see anybody, not even Ginny. Then something flashed in her brain. She closed her eyes and freed her mind from thoughts of Harry. She tried to remember how happy she was when she'd talked to Ginny, when she visited her for the summer. She tried to picture her in her mind.

She heard someone clapping her hands and saying, "Very clever. Very clever indeed."

Hermione opened her eyes and what she saw made a chill run down her spine.


	9. Who Makes You Feel

Disclaimer: All you recognize is not mine, and if you are fan of Dido you should recognize the title as well, since it's one of her songs.

A/N: Well, to all the people that followed "I Will Remember You" on Fiction Alley, thanks a lot for reading it and following the link to this sequel. Well, there are still 3 chapters to go before the end, and hopefully they'll be up soon. I know I have a lot of WIPs now, but they are all finished and need only to be beta-read (and I would add _luckily_, because I've started to develop an insane obsession over LotR, and can't think at anything else than those cute Hobbits. And don't tell me that I'm 5 years late, I already know that!).

To Danii: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this chapter, and for all your nice comments.

**Who Makes You Feel**

Hermione felt the urge to throw up, exactly like Harry before her. She made her gaze slide past all the corpses that stood with their eyes fixed on Harry.

"As I've already said," said someone from the other side of the cave, which, for some reason, seemed expanded, "Very clever."

Hermione looked at the speaker. "Ginny," she murmured.

"Hermione," said the girl, smiling evilly. "What a displeasure to have you here."

Hermione didn't say anything. She looked at Harry, who was now moving nervously back and forth, and was muttering things under his breath. She came closer to him and listened. "It was all my fault – I made them die – I didn't mean to, but I did it," he was saying quickly.

"No, Harry it wasn't your fault," said Hermione, hugging him and caressing his hair. He shrank from her caress.

Ginny laughed. "As if he could listen to you," she said teasingly. " He can't hear you if I don't want him to."

Hermione got up. "What do you want?" she asked Ginny.

"What do I want?" she questioned, surprised. "I thought that it was clear." She sneered and for a moment Voldemort's face overlapped hers. "I want revenge," she hissed.

"Revenge?" asked Hermione, without understanding. "What do you want revenge for?"

"I've been killed," screamed Ginny. "I've been killed while I still had all my life in front of me. I could have done great things."

"You were nothing," said Hermione, unsure if she was still talking to Ginny or if she was in conversation with Voldemort now, or maybe it was both of them.

"I could have been everything," she said, looking at Hermione with bloodshot eyes. "I was a hundred times better than a Mudblood like you."

"I don't think so," said Hermione quickly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "How dare you?" she hissed. "You claim that you are intelligent, but you cannot even save the Boy Who Lived." She sneered. "He is going to die," she said in a sing song voice.

Hermione looked at Harry and saw that ghosts surrounded him. She came closer to him and raised her wand to them. "Go away," she cried to the spirits. But they didn't even acknowledge that she had spoken.

"Harry," said the ghost of an Asian girl next to them. "Harry, I thought that you loved me, but you just let me die, or better, you killed me."

Harry raised his eyes. "Cho, I didn't want to kill you, it was an accident."

Cho looked at him evilly. "No, Harry, it wasn't an accident. You really wished me to die. You wanted me to die."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered.

"No!" Hermione took Harry's face in her hands. "Harry, listen to me, it's not your fault. Remember what Dumbledore's portrait said? Voldemort wanted them to die, not you."

"Harry, don't listen to her," said Seamus Finnigan. "She is not here. She is not real like us. And what happened was all your fault."

"Harry, no! It wasn't your fault, you wanted to save them," said Hermione hastily.

"You wanted to kill us all," said Seamus. "You wanted to have the world all for you, you wanted to have all the power."

"No, Harry, that was Voldemort, not you," shrieked Hermione.

"As if it mattered," said Hannah Abbott. "He could have stopped it, but he didn't. He let us die."

"He wanted to stop him, but he couldn't," said Hermione furiously. "He didn't want you to die."

"Harry," said Mr. Weasley firmly. "You are only trying to justify what you did, and that's not good. You have to take responsibility for your actions."

"I-I'm sorry," said Harry quickly.

"Being sorry never helped anybody."

Ginny laughed from the rock where she was sitting. "How pathetic," she hissed. "And this is the boy that defeated the Dark Lord. How sad."

Hermione glared at her. "Let him go," she screamed.

Ginny sneered. "Are you angry, Mudblood?" she asked her. "I can feel the heat of your anger from this very distance."

"If you don't let him go, I – I swear that I – I-"

"You what? You'll stammer at me?" asked Ginny mockingly.

Hermione bit her lips so hard that in a moment her mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood. She didn't have any ideas what she could to save Harry, and herself, from this situation.

"Have you lost your tongue?" asked Ginny. "Maybe it's here," she said, raising a hand with a moving and bloody tongue in it.

Hermione brought her hands to her mouth and tried to speak, but no words came forth. 'It's all in my mind, it's all in my mind,' she thought and she felt her tongue back in its place.

Ginny snorted. "Do you really think that you'll be able to use your force of will much longer?"

"Your stupid mental games don't work with me anymore," shouted Hermione.

"Now let us go."

"Don't you dare use that tone with me," thundered Ginny, and once again her face mixed with Voldemort's. "If I wanted to, I could have strangled you when you entered this cave."

"Then why didn't you?" asked Hermione quietly.

Ginny's face seemed to return to normal as she smiled evilly. "Surprise," she hissed.

Hermione didn't understand.

"Harry," said Tonks' ghost, kneeling next to him. Hermione jumped between her and Harry, before she could actually place her hand on his shoulder. Tonks stepped back and sniggered at Hermione, then she looked at Harry.

"Harry," she continued, "don't you feel guilty for having killed all your friends?" She gestured towards the other ghosts. "Don't you want to pay for what you did?"

Harry nodded with tears in his eyes. "Yes, I do," he said, as if he thought that if he did, he would be released.

Tonks smiled and out of nowhere appeared a dagger, which she handed to Harry.

Harry stretched an arm in her direction, but Hermione hit the dagger with her hand, hurting her back.

"No!" screamed Harry, jumping over Hermione and making her fall on her back to the ground. She groaned as her head hit the bare rock under her. Harry let her go and threw himself on the dagger that lay some feet away.

"Wait, Harry," said Ginny, her voice coming from someplace dangerously near.

Hermione looked up and saw that Ginny was next to Harry.

"What do you think you are? Guilty or innocent?"

Harry looked at her with tear filled eyes. "I'm guilty," he said, crying. "I'm a murderer."

"No, Harry," said Hermione, trying to get to her feet and rubbing her back. "You are innocent."

Ginny smiled. "Can you hear this voice, Harry?" she asked him slowly.

Harry nodded.

"Do you know who's speaking?"

Harry shook his head.

"It's someone who claims to be your friend, Harry," said Ginny as if she was talking to a child. "And she is saying that you are not guilty. But she is wrong."

Harry nodded.

"You know what you have to do," said Ginny, sneering. "Kill her, and you'll be free. Kill her and you'll find peace."

Hermione's eyes opened wide. Now she understood why Ginny hadn't killed her earlier. She felt her fear rising. If Harry attacked her, how could she defend herself without hurting him in return?

Harry looked at Hermione with rage and hate in his eyes. Hermione raised her wand to him.

She heard Ginny laugh. "No, Hermione, I can't believe you really want to kill him," she said mockingly. "Where has all your love for him gone?"

Hermione tried to concentrate on Harry, who was coming dangerously closer to her, with the dagger raised for striking.

"You know, Hermione," said Ginny, sitting down and enjoying the show. "If I were you, I would rather die for him than kill him, but hey, it's up to you after all."

"And you are dead," muttered Hermione, starting to step back and circle while Harry moved slowly towards her.

Ginny seemed to think at her words. "Yeah, I guess you are right," she said truthfully. "And soon you'll be dead too."

Harry raised the dagger even higher and let out a scream before throwing himself at Hermione.

"Expelliarmus!"

The dagger flew from Harry's hand and he fell on the ground, crying from the slash the dagger had left on his arm.

"Oh, poor Harry," said Ginny, smiling maliciously. "Hermione is a bad girl."

Hermione tried to stay calm while Harry got to his feet again.

"What do you think you are going to do, Hermione?" Ginny asked her teasingly. "You don't have all eternity in front of you."

Hermione started to circle again as Harry followed her like a lion follows a gazelle. He bent down and picked up the dagger again.

"If you don't kill him, he'll kill you," Ginny seemed to think of a third option. "Although you'll both die of hunger while waiting."

Hermione didn't particularly enjoy any of the alternatives. She looked at the dagger and mentally repeated, 'It doesn't exist, it doesn't exist, it's all in my mind.' But the dagger was still there. Maybe she was too afraid to concentrate, or maybe that stiletto dagger really existed.

"Nice attempt," said Ginny, laughing. "But it's all true, it's all real."

"No, it's not," muttered Hermione. "Harry, listen to me," she tried, her last chance. "I am real, I'm the only other real person here besides you."

Harry stopped for a second at the words 'Hermione' and 'real', but then he kept walking towards her with a wild light in his eyes.

"Harry, it's not your fault everybody died," she said. "Remember what Dumbledore said, Harry. Voldemort knew what he was going to do. He not only killed all our friends, but also his own followers."

Hermione tried to walk towards the other part of the cave, but Harry made a small jump in her direction and blocked her way. She pointed her wand at his throat.

"Harry," she said, as tears ran down her cheeks. "Harry, it's me. Why don't you remember me?"

Harry took a step towards her and Hermione's wand sank into his neck. He stopped.

"Come on, Hermione, kill him," said Ginny eagerly.

Hermione gulped. "No," she murmured.

"What?" asked Ginny, amused. "Then he will have to kill you."

"Okay," said Hermione, putting down her wand slowly.

Ginny looked at her while the sneer disappeared from her face and she became, once again, similar to Voldemort. "What?" she hissed. "Kill him!"

Hermione shook her head and threw away her wand, which bounced on the floor of the cave. She looked at Harry, her eyes shiny with tears, and Harry stared back at her, confused.

"Kill me, if you have to," she told him, "But before you do this." She stepped slowly towards him and raised her hands. Harry took a step back, scared of what she could do to him. Hermione smiled softly while she brought her hands around his neck, stood on tiptoes and kissed his lips. Harry stood there, too perplexed to understand what was happening to him. "I love you." He heard that whispered into his ear and he felt her tears running down his neck.

And then a flash of light dazzled his eyes and he fell to his knees, dragging Hermione with him and causing the dagger to land some feet away from them with a clang. He took his head into his hands and felt a piercing pain going through his brain.

"Harry! Harry!" screamed Hermione, shaking his shoulders.

Harry seized her wrists and blocked her. He raised his eyes and looked at her.

Hermione felt her stomach give a jolt of happiness when she noticed that his eyes weren't empty anymore.

"Hermione," he murmured.

Hermione threw herself at him, and hugged him tightly, and this time he hugged her back.

"What a disgusting thing," hissed a voice at Hermione's back. They looked at Ginny to see she had now turned almost completely into Voldemort. The head was shaking.

"He was almost there, Mudblood, almost there," he hissed. "But you had to ruin everything." All the spirits around them had disappeared and the cave was back to normal. They could see the sun entering from the entrance.

Harry and Hermione stood up and Hermione picked up her wand as she handed Harry his own.

Voldemort sneered as they pointed their wands to him. "How many times do I have to tell you? Your wands cannot do anything to me, not when I'm already dead."

And with a last glimpse of madness in his eyes, he disappeared.


	10. The Globe of Souls

Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all. And also the "Globe of Souls", I think I took it from BtVS.

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but this first month of school has been pretty hectic for me. I just hope that you'll enjoy this. We are almost at the end of this story, I'm a bit sad, but at the same time, I'm happy because I have so many WiPs right now… Well, let me know what do you think!

To Danii: Thanks a lot for beta-reading this, and for being such a nice pal.

**The Globe of Souls**

Hermione hugged Harry tightly and pressed her face into his chest, breathing in his scent.

"For a moment, I thought I'd lost you," she murmured to him.

Harry rubbed his cheek on her hair. "For a moment I thought that too," he replied softly.

"But we fought them," said Hermione, letting him go and looking into his emerald eyes.

Harry shook his head. "You fought them."

Hermione blushed. "N-no, Harry, we did it together," she stammered.

"And what did I do? I was trying to kill you," he said bitterly.

Hermione caressed his cheek with her hand. "You love me and that's what's really important," she said, smiling.

"I felt so desperate when I lost track of you, I tried to hold your hand, but all that wind it was almost like-"

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips.

"Harry, everything is all right now. You still have the key that the Caretaker gave you, right?" she asked, with a note of concern. Harry checked his pockets quickly and sighed in relief.

"I do," he said, pulling out the key.

Hermione smiled. "Let's get out of here then. I don't want to see a graveyard again in my entire life," she said, starting to walk towards the entrance of the cave. But Harry held her back.

"No," he said seriously. Hermione looked at him, concerned.

"No?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "We have another thing to do before we can go," he said vaguely, walking out of the cave and looking around.

Hermione followed him. "What? Harry, we survived. Isn't that enough?"

"No," said Harry seriously. "We have to destroy Voldemort, once and forever."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, Voldemort is already dead. Didn't you hear him? We can't do anything to hurt him more than he is already."

Harry seized her shoulders and looked into her chocolate brown eyes. "Hermione, don't you remember what Dumbledore's portrait said?" he asked her.

"He said that you never knows how evil spreads, and he was right," she said, sighing.

Harry nodded. "And he also said that he would rather burn Voldemort's corpse than bury it, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

He saw a huge construction in the middle of the Graveyard and started to walk quickly towards it, followed by Hermione.

"Do you want to set his mausoleum on fire?" she asked, trying to keep up with Harry.

"If it is necessary, I'll set the whole island on fire," said Harry, almost running.

"Harry, no! The other people that lay here don't deserve this," she said, seizing his arm.

"Hermione, they're dead. They won't mind if their corpses are turned into piles of ash," he said.

"I know, but it's not respectful towards them. They died because of Voldemort. They fought bravely against him. We can't simply go there and burn their graves because we'll feel safer," she said intensely.

Harry rolled his eyes. Unfortunately, she was right, as always. "Okay, here's what we'll do," he said, slowing down a little as they approached the mausoleum. "We'll find his grave, open it to make sure it's really his body– I know," he added, noticing the disgusted expression on Hermione's face. "And then we'll burn him and throw his ashes into the sea."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"And if the evil keeps on spreading from this place, we'll set the whole island on fire," he added and walked away before he could hear Hermione's reply.

Hermione rolled her eyes and knew that he wouldn't listen to her if she complained, so she kept her mouth shut and followed him.

"Damn Voldemort," muttered Harry as he touched the door of the mausoleum. "How are we supposed to open this?"

Hermione looked at the door, which didn't look like a door at all. She didn't even understand why Harry went directly towards that wall.

"Harry, are you sure that that's a door?" she asked him, trying to sound casual.

Harry stopped for a while to push what he thought was the door and turned to face her. "Do you see any other entrances?"

"I don't see an entrance in front of me," she answered simply.

"Remember in our second year? The Chamber of Secrets?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"Its entrance was in the girls toilet. Right under the basins and it didn't look like an entrance at all," he reminded her.

"Of course!" exclaimed Hermione, hitting her forehead with her palm. "Harry, say something in Parseltongue."

"What?"

"Say 'open' or 'enter' in Parseltongue. That's how you managed to open the Chamber of Secrets, wasn't it?"

Harry looked back at the entrance of the mausoleum and stretched out an arm.

"Open," he hissed.

"You're speaking in English," murmured Hermione.

Harry closed his eyes. "Open!"

"Again."

He opened her eyes and shot her a glance, as for saying to be quiet. "_Open!_"

Hermione looked at him and held her breath as the door slid and disappeared into a wall of the mausoleum. A terrible smell exited from the place, and she and Harry brought both their hands to their noses and took a couple of steps back, revolted.

"It's terrible," said Hermione from behind her hands.

"I know. The smell of death," said Harry. He looked inside the mausoleum and saw a steep staircase that disappeared down into the bowels of the building.

"Well, you don't have to come if you don't want," said Harry slowly, feeling bad at the idea of going in all alone.

"No, no," said Hermione hastily. "I'm coming."

Harry smiled gratefully.

"Lumus," they said at the same time and their wands lit up. Hermione took Harry's hand in hers and started to walk next to him. They entered the mausoleum, paying a lot of attention where they placed their feet because the steps were slimy and slippery. Hermione almost fell twice, but luckily Harry caught her.

"Do you think there could be something guarding his grave?" asked Hermione as they turned right.

"Do you mean something like a Basilisk?" replied Harry.

Hermione nodded.

"I hope not," he muttered.

"You'd hear it, wouldn't you?"

"I guess so," said Harry, trying to convince himself first. "It's getting cold here," he added, shivering.

"We are descending quickly. How far do you think we have to go?" asked Hermione, getting closer to Harry.

"I don't know," he answered, placing an arm around her shoulders.

They walked for about half an hour, with their wands raised in front of them, through a small passage, which was getting smaller and smaller with every step they took.

"Lucky we're not too tall," said Hermione, bending down a little.

"Funny," said Harry sarcastically, knowing that he wasn't exactly a giant.

"I wasn't joking," said Hermione. "This passage is getting too small. I hope that there'll be more space soon, or we won't be able to go on."

Harry nodded. "Right, sorry. Why don't we-"

Harry felt the steps under his feet move and he soon found himself slipping down a chute with Hermione at his back.

"I hope we fit in at the end of the passage," screamed Hermione behind Harry. He hoped that too. Luckily the end of the passage opened to a large circular room.

Harry fell on the floor and Hermione fell on his back.

"Sorry," she said, helping him to his feet.

"It's okay," said Harry, rubbing his back.

They looked around and extinguished the lights of their wands. The room was lit with torches hung on the walls, which were decorated with figures of snakes. In the very middle of the room lay a grave with a small mark on it. Harry walked towards the grave.

"Wait," said Hermione, seizing his arm. "We don't know if we can trust this place."

"Hermione, of course we can't trust it," said Harry simply, continuing on.

He read the name on the gravestone out loud. "Voldemort." He looked at Hermione. "Better if we open it and be sure."

He pointed his wand towards the grave, but as soon as he opened his mouth to mutter a spell, a red light flashed towards him and made him fly some feet backwards.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione, rushing to his side.

Harry nodded. "A protective charm," he muttered while Hermione helped him to stand up.

They heard a laugh coming from every side of the room. "A protective charm that marked people like you cannot break," hissed Voldemort's voice all around them.

"Marked people?" muttered Harry, without understanding.

They heard that laugh again. It was like cold water running down their back. "Marked. Marked. Marked. Marked," repeated Voldemort.

"What the hell?" Harry turned towards Hermione. "What does he mean?" he asked her. But Hermione wasn't looking at him. She was staring at her arm, with the purple trace of Ron's fingers on it.

"Hermione." He came closer to her and took her arm delicately in his hands. "What did you do?" he asked her, concerned.

"A ghost – Ron's ghost – touched me," she murmured. "And he left that thing on my skin." She looked at Harry. "And you? Where is your mark?"

"I don't have marks," he said, looking at his hands.

"Where did she touch you the first time?" she asked him seriously.

"They never touch-" he stopped abruptly, remembering something. He moved away his coat and shirt and looked at the skin of his shoulder, which had a blue print of a small hand on it.

Harry swore under his breath. "How do we get rid of these things?" he asked to nobody in particular.

"You can't," hissed Voldemort's voice. "The only way is to die."

Harry snorted. "Hermione, you are so intelligent, can't you find a way, different of dying, that will let us get rid of these?" he asked hopefully.

"It's a magic that I don't know, Harry. Something that we didn't learn at school," he said sadly.

"Oh, but there's a way," hissed Voldemort. "Which doesn't include the death of _one_ of you."

Harry looked at the grave and raised his wand. "Really?" he asked sceptically. Voldemort appeared on the grave. He stood and looked at them with red eyes.

"How does it work?" asked Harry, pointing his wand at him.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked teasingly. "Maybe you won't like it."

"Try us," said Hermione bravely.

"Well, Mudblood," said Voldemort slowly. He made a gesture with his hand and a globe the size of a Bludger appeared next to him. "This is a Globe of Souls."

Hermione brought her hands to her mouth. Evidently, she knew what that was. Harry simply stared at it without a clue on what it was used for, but with the sense that it wasn't anything good. He looked intently at the Globe and saw that in it, something moved. He took a step towards it, but Hermione held him back.

"No, Harry," she whispered. "It's dangerous."

Voldemort sneered. "Right, Mudblood. Very dangerous," he said, hitting the Globe and levitating towards Harry and Hermione. "In this Globe is contained all the souls of the people that lay here."

"They're trapped there," said Harry, beginning to understand.

Voldemort smirked. "You have two chances. You can go away, both of you, without touching my body. You'll be safe and warm in Hogwarts before the end of the day. Although," he stopped as Harry and Hermione moved away from the Globe floating near them. "You can try to burn my body. But since you can't pass trough the Protective Charm placed on this place, you have to do a little ritual."

"A ritual?" asked Harry slowly.

"One of you has to die," he said evilly.

Harry looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "I have a third option: we burn your corpse from here, with our wands."

Voldemort licked his lips. "Show me," he hissed.

Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort.

"Incendio!"

The spell bounced off of an invisible wall of power. Voldemort laughed evilly. "So, who wants to die?" he hissed, amused.

Harry gritted his teeth. He would have jumped Voldemort if Hermione wasn't trying to make him look at her with all her will.

"Harry," she said when he finally looked at her. "You have to destroy him. It doesn't matter what will happen, but you have to set his grave on fire," she said firmly.

"Hermione, we have to set him on fire," said Harry, correcting her.

Hermione placed a hand on his cheek. "The most important thing is that you don't go away before you are completely sure that every trace of evil is gone from this place, okay?"

"Hermione, what do you think you are doing?"

"We can't stay here forever," she answered simply. "Someone has to do something."

"Hermione, I've already lost you once. I don't want to lose you again!" cried Harry.

"Break that Globe and every soul trapped there will be free," she explained. "Me, too," she whispered, blinking away tears.

Harry gripped her arms so hard that Hermione bit her lip so she wouldn't groan of pain. "Do you really think that I'll let you go?" he asked her harshly, his eyes bright.

Hermione nodded. She stood on tiptoes. Harry didn't close his eyes while she pressed her lips to his, but she wasn't kissing him. She was muttering something. Harry's eyes opened wide as he understood the meaning of her words. When she let him go, he tightened his grip on her arms.

"Harry, you're hurting me," she said.

"I know," he said bitterly.

"Let go," she said.

Harry slowly released her arms. Hermione smiled and walked towards the Globe that was levitating some feet from them. She stretched out an arm and touched it with a finger. Suddenly a blinding light came out of the globe and swallowed Hermione. When the light disappeared, Harry took a while before he was able to see again. But when he looked around, Hermione had disappeared. He looked at his shoulder and saw that there was nothing on it. Voldemort too had disappeared. Only the globe fluctuated near the grave.

He walked towards the grave and this time managed to reach it. He opened it and saw a dry body of a snake-like man, whose skeleton was visible under the white skin.

He pointed his wand towards him. "Incendio," he said with loathing. The body started to burn. Harry looked at it as it turned into a pile of ash. Then the mausoleum was shook by something very similar to a earthquake. Harry pointed his wand towards the Globe. "Diffindo."

The Globe opened and souls began to fly in every direction, screaming and crying. Harry heard a pop and looked under the globe. Hermione was there.

Harry ran to her side. "How are you?" he asked her.

"As if I were dead," she answered simply, taking Harry's hand to stand up.

"How did you know that you wouldn't die?" asked Harry, while pieces of the walls began falling down.

"The Globe of Souls is just a container, it traps inside all the things that touches, but it doesn't kill anybody," she said quickly. "Luckily Voldemort didn't know that." She paused and looked at the ceiling. "We have to find a way out. This place is going to fall into pieces."

"Maybe this way," said an evanescent voice at their back.

They turned their heads towards him and saw the ghost of Ron smiling at them, then he disappeared, revealing a small entrance. Harry took Voldemort's ashes in his hands and shoved them in his pockets.

"Thanks," they heard Ron say as they left the room.


	11. Just a Last Goodbye

Disclaimer: So not mine…

A/N: Okay, so first of all, this is **NOT** the last chapter. There's another one to go before this story is completed. But even if I've written this line, I've the sensation that lots of you will ask me if this is going to be the last chapter. (No. Non. Iie. Bu shi. Nein. Niet.) Anyway, enjoy it, and wait for the next one, which should be up in a couple of weeks.

To Danii: Thanks a lot for wasting your time with my chapters, despite the fat that you are so busy.

**Just a Last Goodbye**

"Let's get out of this place right now," said Harry as they landed on some grass right outside of the mausoleum.

"No, Harry wait," said Hermione, looking around.

The place was always the same, but in some way, it was different. There were graves everywhere, but they seemed immobile this time. They bent down to see the first they came across.

"Ginny Weasley," Hermione read. "There was no name on it when I saw it earlier."

Harry nodded. "I read Ginny's first and then-" He stopped, feeling the anguished sensation of reading Hermione's name on that grave.

"Then?" asked Hermione, looking at him.

"What?" he asked her as she snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What name did you read?" she asked, looking deeply into his eyes.

Harry smiled. "None," he said softly, hugging her.

Hermione hugged him back and rested her head on his shoulder. When she let him go, she knelt down next to the grave and, much to Harry's surprise, she smiled.

"Hermione," said Harry slowly, "What are you doing?" He was well aware that he'd made her promise that she wouldn't cry over the graves, but she had already shed tears on McLaggen's grave, and a smile seemed totally out of place in a moment like that.

She closed her eyes, her smile became wider, but at the same time some tears began to run down her cheeks. Harry felt almost relieved at their sight. She stood up, wiped away the tears and looked at Harry, smiling.

"Shall we go?" she asked.

"Out of here? Of course," said Harry.

"No, not out of here," said Hermione, still smiling. "To the graves."

Harry looked around, concerned. But the place seemed to be nothing more than a nice cemetery under the sun of an October day.

"Are you sure?" he asked her.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure." She took Harry's hand in hers and started to walk towards the other graves.

They checked if Professor McGonagall's name was spelled correctly. And since they had used a spell, it was right.

They spent the rest of the day in the place. Looking for every person that had meant something to them, and there were a lot. They spent the most time on the graves of the Weasleys, especially Ron's. Hermione picked some flowers for everybody and, to Harry's displeasure, for the Death Eaters as well.

"They were fighting for Voldemort, Hermione, did you know that?" he asked her.

"I know, Harry," she said calmly, ignoring his sarcasm. "But it's not their fault if they were killed. They didn't expect that."

"They were evil, Hermione," reminded Harry.

Hermione sighed, but at the end of the day, every grave had flowers on it. Every grave but Draco Malfoy's.

"Look, Harry," said Hermione, pointing in front of her. "The gate."

Harry followed her finger and saw that the trees that covered the entrance had moved away, and beyond the iron bars, the sun was setting into the sea.

"I guess that we don't have anything else to do here," said Harry, sighing.

Hermione smiled. "You don't seem happy."

"No, no, I'm happy. It's just-"

"Yes?"

"Well, I know that they'll never come back to life, but for a moment it was nice to see them here, near us. And for a moment it was nice to touch them, and to be touched by them," he said slowly, as if he already knew that every word that he said was an offence.

He expected Hermione to get mad at him because of his senseless words. After all, he was talking about dead people. But she just stood there, looking at him.

"You're right," she said after a while.

"R-really?" he asked, unsure.

Hermione nodded. "I was with Ron and I was happy, he-"

"You were with Ron?" asked Harry, realizing at that very moment that something had to have happened to Hermione while he was alone with Ginny.

Hermione nodded. "He touched me with deceit and I think it's that that made us-" she took a deep breath, "-forget about each other. The touch."

"And?" asked Harry, trying to sound casual.

"And what?" asked Hermione, flushing red.

"What did you do?"

Hermione lowered her eyes. "I felt wonderful with him. I felt like he was my only love, the only thing I could hold on to." She looked at Harry, who wore a dark expression upon his face. "But naturally," she added hastily, "it was just a charm."

"Yeah," said Harry, looking everywhere but at her. "We should go," he added, walking towards the gate, leaving Hermione behind, looking at him with her eyebrows raised.

"You are joking, aren't you?" she said, running after him.

"What?" he snapped.

"You aren't serious, right?"

"I don't know what are you talking about," he said, sprinting.

"You know that it was a charm," she said sternly.

"I guess so," he answered vaguely.

"Harry, you are jealous of Ron," said Hermione, who was starting to get angry with him.

"Shouldn't I?" asked Harry, shrugging.

"No!" cried Hermione, "No, you shouldn't!"

Harry hushed her. "We're still in the Graveyard."

Hermione looked at him with eyes that flashed dangerously. She passed Harry and waited for him near the gate. He placed the key into the hole and pushed it open. He made a gesture to Hermione and she passed next to him with her eyes lowered. When the gate closed behind them, she looked at him.

"You are really stupid sometimes, Harry," she stated.

"Thanks," he said, without even looking at her.

"And you are acting like a child," she shouted.

He shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione stopped in front of him with her hands on her hips. "And what happened with Ginny?"

Harry looked at her, then he took away his eyes. "You saw what happened with Ginny."

"No, I mean before I arrived. How did she touch you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You had the mark of her hand on your shoulder."

"She just placed her hand on my shoulder while I wasn't looking," said Harry quickly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is that true?"

Harry nodded, looking everywhere but at her. Hermione shrugged and started to walk away.

"No, alright, wait," he called after her.

Hermione stopped, but didn't turn to face him. She waited for him to approach her.

"Ginny and I – she, well – we had – she kissed me," stammered Harry.

Hermione looked at him. "Did you kiss her back?"

Harry shook his head. "I wanted to, but I was in something like a trance," he said sheepishly. "You and Ron-?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows and sighed. "Ron kissed me and I kissed him back. He wanted me to-" Hermione's voice trailed off while she thought of the last minutes spent with Ron's ghost.

Harry bit his lips. "Yeah?" he asked weakly.

"Ron asked me to commit suicide," said Hermione slowly.

Harry looked at her with his eyes wide. "What?" He hadn't expected something like that. He would have imagined Hermione to tell him a long and detailed afternoon spent in Ron's arms. "Did he really?"

Hermione nodded. "I was in a trance, exactly like you. I was almost going to do it."

"How did you get out of that trance?" he asked her, knowing that it had taken a great effort to shake him out of his own state of trance.

Hermione lowered her eyes and smiled. "It's silly, but it was a bed that helped me out of that daydream." Harry looked at her, puzzled, and she went on, telling him exactly what had happened with Ron that afternoon.

"So," he said, when she finished. "You kissed him. But," he added hastily when she raised her eyebrows so high, they disappeared under her curls, "when you saw the bed that used to be there for me, you remembered me."

"I remembered everything," Hermione corrected him.

Harry nodded. "You remembered everything." Harry looked at the sea. "I'm such an idiot," he said bitterly.

To his great surprise, Hermione sighed and said, "Sometimes you can be." He looked at her in shock, expecting something more comforting.

Hermione smiled and placed her hand on his cheek. "But, I love you, Harry, and I think that that is what really matters."

Harry nodded, and Hermione felt his two-day-old stubble under her palm. "I love you too."

"I know," she said simply.

Harry took her hand into his and started to walk towards the hut of the Caretaker.

"He won't be too happy to see us again," stated Hermione while they got closer. "He wanted the Ford Anglia."

"For what? There are no streets here and he can't use it to fly," said Harry, smiling.

Hermione shrugged and smiled too.

They walked to the door of the hut and knocked on the door. They heard noises and swearing exactly like the evening before from the inside, and then the locks slid back.

"What do you want?" asked the Caretaker rudely.

"To give you back the keys to the Graveyard," said Harry.

The door burst open as soon as he recognized the voice of the boy that had left that morning. The old man looked at them with his eyes wide open. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. And for a moment, both Harry and Hermione thought that he would have had a heart attack. "Y-you are alive," said the man after a while.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and smiled. "We are," said Hermione.

The man stretched out an arm and reached Hermione's shoulder, he touched her with his finger and pushed her. "You aren't ghosts," he said, pulling away his hand.

"No, I don't think so," said Harry.

The man glanced at them a last time, before thinking it safe enough to turn his back on them and invite them to enter his house. Harry and Hermione followed him inside.

"Well, well, well," he said, sitting down in the same old armchair. "I think that you are the first ones to get out of that place."

"The Graveyard is safe now," said Harry, handing the key to the man and sitting down on the same chair of the day before with Hermione at his side. "You know, you should bring some flowers to the graves in there."

"Safe?" asked the man. "What do you mean by safe?"

"No more ghosts, that's what we mean," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "No more people that disappear inside that place, no more tortured souls that wander around."

The Caretaker licked his lips. "How can I be sure?"

"You can't. You just have our word," said Harry.

"Oh, well, don't go around telling everybody, though," said the man hastily. "I don't want this place to become too crowded."

Hermione looked at him and rolled his eyes. "They all have the right to know if someone that they know has been buried here."

"And I have the right to take a nap every afternoon," snapped the man.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, I don't think that you'll have to worry about that, though," he said quickly. "Because there are very few wizards and witches left in England."

The man nodded. "I heard about that."

Both Harry and Hermione nodded, and for a while, nobody spoke. They didn't have much to tell him, after all.

"Well," sighed Harry, sitting up, "I guess it's time to go."

The Caretaker followed them with his gaze as they stood up and moved towards the door.

"Thanks a lot for your help," said Hermione nicely, bending down to the man and kissing him on his cheeks twice.

The old man flushed. "Y-you are welcome," he stammered, trying to cover his surprise.

"Yeah, well, thanks," said Harry, following Hermione out of the hut. "Did you really have to kiss him?" he whispered to her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to thank him."

"You could have just-"

"See, Harry you are stressed," said Hermione, cutting him off. "And I don't want to dive into another senseless conversation with you; so why don't we go to the Ford Anglia, eat something, sleep for a while and then go back to Hogwarts?" she said in a tone that didn't require a reply.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it almost immediately and shook his head.

They got into the car and ate some of the food that they'd brought from the Hogwarts kitchen. Then they tried to sleep for a while, since they were both too tired to drive, and finally, towards morning, they left for Hogwarts.


	12. Out of Here, Forever with You

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K.Rowling does, and I think that her children will own him after her death.

A/N: Okay, I think I'll make this a long A/N because I have lots of things to tell you. First of all, I wanted to thank all the readers that followed this story and its prequel, 'I Will Remember You'. You have been all wonderful. Then, thanks to all the people that put this story in their Alerts list, in their Favourites list and in their C2s. And last, but not least, a very big thank you to all the people that reviewed my chapters, those reviews really made my day. Well, I hate to beg for reviews, but if I'll say this I don't think that it's exactly begging. If you feel like leaving a review, and it's about year 3000 and the aliens have invaded the Earth or Voldy has won the Battle against Harry Potter, leave it anyway, I swear that I'll find the way to read it! And I'll also reply at them (if you want me to!)! As a last thing (then you can go on reading the chapter), I wanted to let you know that I've written a story, which I think it's better than these ones I've uploaded on if you want to have a look at it, you'll find it on Fiction Alley, under my name (Ely-Baby), it's called 'But Thy Eternal Summer Shall Not Fade'. I think it's pretty nice, so if you want to have a look at it, just check it out, although forget it. Again, thanks a lot to you all. Love you all.

To Danii: Thanks so much for all your encouraging comments. I'm really happy that you have been my beta-reader for this story. Thanks for all your hard work.

**Out of Here, Forever with You**

Harry tried to cover his amusement as he watched Hermione's pale face staring out the window.

"Hermione, there's no need to check our position on the ground," he said, trying to sound serious. "I know how to get to Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded, without speaking.

"Look," said Harry after a while. "Hogwarts."

"Already?" asked Hermione, glancing ahead at the castle.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe we were so quick because we didn't mistake the way this time. And we didn't stop anywhere."

"Right," said Hermione, as the car landed abruptly on the grounds in front of Hogwarts.

"Home, sweet home," said Harry, getting out of the car. They walked towards the main door and tried to open it, just to find out that it was locked. Harry sighed. "Open up, Filch!" he shouted.

They heard locks sliding back and then the door opened. "What the – oh," said Filch, disappointed. "It's you."

"Yes, it is. Aren't you happy to see us?" asked Harry, pushing him away from the entrance and entering the hall.

"No!" said Filch truthfully. "I was getting used to the idea of being here alone again and then you come back."

"We were only away a couple of days," Harry pointed out.

"I adapt quickly," snapped Filch. "How long will you stay here this time?"

"For a while," said Harry slowly.

"No," said Hermione hastily. "We'll stay here just until we decide what to do."

Harry looked at her. "What do you want to do?"

Hermione looked back at him, frustrated. "I don't want to stay here. Let's go somewhere where we can be useful to other people."

"Do you mean the Ministry of Magic?" asked Harry horrified.

"No – yes – I don't know," said Hermione, looking away from him.

"Yes, yes," said Filch. "The Ministry of Magic, what a good place. You should definitely go there."

"Shut up," snapped both Harry and Hermione. Filch snorted and walked away, muttering something like 'respect for the old wizards'.

Hermione looked at Harry. "You are obsessed with the Ministry of Magic. There's no need to go there, if you don't want to."

"But, you want to," Harry pointed out.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Not necessarily."

"What do you want to do, then?"

"I just want to give some direction to my life again. Is that so difficult for you to understand?" she asked. "Just because you think there's nothing to do out there, it doesn't mean that it's true."

"Hermione, your life has direction," he said slowly.

"Harry, do you remember when we were Aurors?" she asked him. Harry nodded.

"We used to help other people and we felt happy," she said, while a smile spread across her face.

"There are no more good people to help, Hermione," said Harry, sighing.

"I know, that's what I told you last month," she said matter-of-factly. "I simply can't spend all my life in this place. I'm not like you. I couldn't have lived at the Leaky Cauldron for five months."

Harry rolled his eyes. "There's only one thing that I don't understand," he said, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," said Hermione, sighing.

"Well, when you've decided, come and look for me, will you? I'll be in my bedroom," he said, storming out of the Hall and climbing up the stairs to the seventh floor.

Hermione followed him with her gaze and shook her head. She heard the slow steps of Filch behind her and, since she wasn't keen on having another discussion right at the moment, she climbed up the stairs as well and reached the entrance to the Head's Office.

"Gryffindor," she muttered to the gargoyle, which moved away and revealed the moving stairs. Hermione took at step and the stairs brought her on the top, directly in front of the door to the office.

She entered and walked towards the wall opposite the door.

"Good morning, professors," she said. Dumbledore opened his eyes and looked at her from behind his spectacles.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said, smoothing his beard. "Are you back already?"

Hermione nodded.

"How was your trip? Entertaining?" he asked her, smiling.

"I can't say that we were bored," she said with a small smile.

"Did you find my tomb?" asked Professor McGonagall in a sleepy voice, stretching her arms above her head.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, professor and your name was written perfectly on it."

"Did you find something strange in that place?" asked Dumbledore, already knowing the answer.

"Voldemort's evil work was still there, but we managed to destroy it," she replied.

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore. "And may I ask how?"

Hermione smiled. "I'll answer your question, Professor, if you'll answer mine."

Dumbledore smiled back. "Of course, Miss Granger."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall listened to Hermione's story without interrupting her. When she finished, she found that most of the other portraits were staring at her, some with their mouths open.

"And that's all," she concluded, sighing.

"You have been very brave, Miss Granger, and very wise," Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione blushed. "If it hadn't been for Harry, I wouldn't have remembered what Professor Dumbledore told us about burning Voldemort's corpse."

"Oh, of course you would have. You were just stressed," said Dumbledore. "But now, may I know the question that you wanted to ask me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione lowered her eyes. "I just wanted to ask your advice," she said.

"Go on, then," said Dumbledore with a crooked smile.

"What would you do if you don't want to waste your life, but there's nothing to do on the Earth?" she asked quickly.

"Ah, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I am very happy to hear that you and Harry are going to wake up from this torpor into which you have fallen."

Hermione flushed. "I – we – I didn't mean-"

"I know," said Dumbledore, "You have just regained your memory, you needed some time to understand everything again. But you cannot hide here forever."

"That's exactly what I told Harry," mumbled Hermione.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "And you came here to find out if I would suggested you find something to do, correct?"

Hermione nodded.

"Miss Granger, on this Earth, you are not alone. You have Harry, and Harry has you," he said, while Hermione looked at him with no comprehension. "I can't suggest a place for you to go or something for you to do. You have to decide that together."

"Harry doesn't want to go anywhere," she said slowly.

"You will die inside if you don't leave this place," stated Professor McGonagall.

"I know, and I don't want that to happen."

"Then just go. It doesn't matter where, as long as you are together," said Dumbledore wisely.

"But, I'm at the same point I was at before," said Hermione, frustrated. "I have to convince Harry to go somewhere and he doesn't want to. And I don't even know where to go."

"You have to look inside yourself to know where you can go," said Dumbledore.

"But can't you give me a clue about some place?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Granger, I'm only a portrait."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry, Professor. I think that I'd better go talk to Harry."

"Good idea," said Dumbledore. "Send us those Muggle things – how do they call them? – postwars?"

"Postcards?" asked Hermione, smiling.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore cheerfully, before falling asleep again like Professor McGonagall.

"Goodbye, professors," whispered Hermione, exiting the office. She sighed deeply and climbed down the stairs. She made her way slowly towards the Fat Lady.

"Good morning, Hermione," she greeted her. "Welcome back."

"Oh, thanks," she said, looking at her. "Butterbeer."

"Oh, I would love to have one," said the Fat Lady as she swung open and let Hermione in. She looked around and noticed that Harry was there, sitting on an armchair next to the fire. He looked at her and smiled when she entered.

"Where have you been?" he asked her.

"I visited Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall," she answered, sitting on the armchair facing his.

"Interesting," said Harry.

"And what have you done?" she asked him.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. I stared at the fire for a while."

"Harry, I want to live," she said abruptly.

Harry looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You meant you want to leave?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I meant what I said. I want to live, and to do that, we have to leave."

"Aren't we living well here?" he asked her, gesturing around. "We have a whole castle for us. How many people can claim something like that?"

"I don't know and I don't care," she said. "But I want to feel like I felt once, before all these things happened to us."

"We can't, Hermione. The only things that haven't been destroyed are you and me, and we are quite different from how we used to be."

"Alright, the past can't come back," said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders. "I know that, but that doesn't mean that we have to die inside here. That doesn't mean we can't have a future."

"I don't want to lose you," said Harry, looking into the fire.

"You won't lose me. We will stay together forever," said Hermione earnestly.

"Forever?"

"Forever or until we start to hate each other," she said, smiling.

Harry smiled back. "I don't think that I could ever hate you."

Hermione bent towards Harry and kissed him on his lips. "Same thing," she murmured.

"So, where are we going?" asked Harry unexpectedly.

Hermione's smile became wider. "What about visiting my parents and letting them know I'm alright?" she asked hopefully.

Harry seemed to think about it, then he knelt on the floor next to Hermione and placed his head on her lap, embracing her. "I think it's a great idea," he whispered.

Hermione placed her hands on his head and smiled, knowing that he would never leave her. Their life would start another time, and this time, they would be together forever. They knew there was no need to forget the past, but it was the future that stood in front of them and they had to live it. They had to live it with all their hearts.

- The End -


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